


Spirit of Champions

by HollowMachines



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:24:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollowMachines/pseuds/HollowMachines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester always grew up being told angels were ruthless, vile and merciless creatures. Of course he believed all this, until he actually met one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This can be seen as based on "How to Train your Dragon", though I didn't intend it to be so since I've never seen the movie. However, I've been told a few times that it seems like it, so take from it what you will.
> 
> This was written for the Dean/Cas Big Bang 2012 on Liveournal, where you can also find the amazing artwork for this piece.

 

Dean sat hunched over in the chair, fingers tapping idly on the table. He stared down at the book before him, the words hardly catching his interest. He caught parts of the scripture; _Angels are fierce and unforgiving...unworthy of trust...a pest to be hunted...merciless and powerful..._ everything Dean had already heard from his father, John. It was all he heard during training, whether it be with a sword, bow and arrows, bolas or spears, it was always about angel defence.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, wood creaking in protest. Soon his lesson would be over, and he could be free to ride out to the meadow towards the river and the canyon, his favourite place to escape. Dean glanced around the library, eyeing the shelves lined with leather bound books and ancient scriptures from all over the Kingdom of Alkalyr and indeed, all over the world. They told of astrology and science, mythology and history, and of course, angel lore.

Chair sliding loudly across the stone floor, Dean hurried out the door as soon as his teacher Mr. Singer excused him. His footfalls echoed through the corridors as he ran out into the daylight. Across the courtyard, around the fountain, through the hedge garden  to the stable. He found his horse, Impala, a beautiful black mare, and quickly took her out, the horse nickering happily as he did so. He set his saddle in place and hopped up, nudging her with his heels and he was off, racing across the cobblestone and out of the city.

Road soon turned to tall grass and forests on either side, the sun beating down hard on Dean's back as Impala galloped through the meadow, main flowing freely behind her. Dean let go of the reins for a moment, letting his arms outstretch to feel the wind across his body. This is what he loved doing so much; being alone and being free. He waited for the moments he could be alone to think or play with Impala, even just practice his fighting skills. Being twenty, he was soon expected to be his father's champion, so he needed to be ready.

The thought brought Dean back to his brother Sam, four years younger and obviously not going down the path involving violence. He was much more into knowledge and learning, often being found in the study area with a history book rather that a sword. Boring by Dean's standards, but part of him was proud Sam was choosing non-violence like many other kids did. Dean himself didn't really get a choice, being first born his father chose it for him. He was used to it now so it didn't bother him, but he sometimes wondered if he really had it in him to kill anything or anyone.

Impala banked sharply when a large mass of something black suddenly flew past, and Dean toppled from her back, crying out as he was thrown to the hard ground. His horse continued to run in panic even as he lay there, ribs aching and breaths coming in short bursts.

"Son of a bitch," Dean coughed, getting to his hands and knees. "What the hell?"

He got to his feet and brushed the dirt from his hands and pant legs before running off after his horse. Impala eventually slowed when she reached the tree line of the forest, her master's voice of reassurance finally reaching her ears. Dean came to her side, panting as he took her head in his hands and rubbed her nose. He whispered words of comfort to make her relax. He watched out into the meadow again, trying to find whatever had spooked his horse. At first, Dean jumped to the idea it was an angel, but they didn't usually come out this far towards the kingdom for fear of death, so he dismissed it.

The sun hovered in the sky still, and Dean relished the shade of the trees around him, so he tied Impala to the nearest tree and sat nestled in the roots of the wood, lying so his chin rested on his chest. He sighed and let his eyes fall shut. He listened to the sound of the rustling leaves, birds chirping, Impala pawing at the ground. It was peaceful, and Dean soon forgot about the incident with whatever had spooked his horse. At least, until it happened again, to the loud sound of whooshing and another dark shape in the sky.

With a loud whinny, Impala started jumping again, the only thing keeping her from running away being her reins tied to the tree. Dean startled and jumped to his feet, once again petting his horse and whispering to her until she found her state of calm. He explored this time, one hand sitting on the hilt of the sword at his hip as he watched the trees for whatever was flying around. He moved a little further into the trees, shafts of light guiding him through the canopy. An eerie feeling crept over him, like he was being followed. He could swear the unnatural rustling was following him.

Sure enough, he turned and there, perched in the midst of a tree's thick branches was a figure, staring down at him with eyes a piercing blue colour. Dean froze as he locked his gaze with the strange thing. It looked human, judging by the overall body shape, but one feature stood out; two massive black things protruding from its back. When it shifted and the light hit them, Dean saw they were wings. Instinctively he jumped into action, sword ripping out from its sheath.

Whereas he'd expected this beast to launch an attack, the glint of his sword actually made it shake and dive out of the tree, landing with a thud on the ground and hiding behind the tree. Dean honestly didn't know what to make of it, so he didn't attack, yet. This was an angel ,was it not? Weren't they supposed to be ruthless and fearless? Yet this one peered out from behind the tree curiously, wings curled around its sided protectively.

Dean had a really bad idea. "Uh, hello?"

The angel didn't move, merely blink and titled its head with curiosity. Something about its gaze and gentle facial expression made him falter in his plans to attack at all. Something was off, this wasn't how angels were supposed to act. Granted, he'd never actually met one, only ever hearing the stories. So he did the only thing he could have chosen not to do and sheathed his blade. Somehow, that only made it worse, because the angel leapt into the air and flew off through the trees with agile speed.

"Hey, wait! Hold on!" Dean yelled before he could think, running off after it. He followed as best he could, but the angel was made for speed, and the small space didn't seem to heed it in any way. It ducked around trees and doubled back, Dean slipping in the soft mud of the ground as he turned. When he straightened back up, he was alone, the angel gone and everything was silence.

 

* * * * * *

 

Dean spent the next few days thinking about the encounter. It was like nothing he'd ever heard of before. It did however cause him to take more of an interest in his studies since he spent the time looking up all the information he could about angels. Everything was always the same; their vicious, merciless, fearless, deadly. So far, he hadn't seen any of that.

He hadn't been back out to the meadow since that day either, for fear the angel would be there and he wouldn't know what to do. Dean had considered telling his father, but he was sure John would have mounted a hunting party and likely killed the angel, and Dean, for whatever reason, didn't want that. He was curious about the angel, wanted to know about him and where he came from. Although as far as Mr. Singer was concerned, no human had ever made contact with an angel and lived. Except Dean did, sort of.

As Dean left his study session that day, deep in thought, Sam came up beside him, books piled in his hands.

"Hey, Dean. What's up?"

"Nothing, Sammy. Just thinking."

Sam snorted, "That's what I mean. I've never seen you so engrossed in your thoughts before. And you're actually studying during study period. What's up?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," Dean said, putting an arm around his little brother's shoulders. "Just, you know, thinking about fighting and stuff. Thought it wouldn't hurt to look up some stuff." He wasn't exactly lying, just relaying a false truth. He himself still wasn't quite sure what he was doing.

"I guess you would be a bit tense, what with the challenge coming up in a few days." Sam said pointedly.

Dean had almost forgotten. His father was expecting him to become a champion arena fighter, and that involved some hard core fighting, against demons, no less. Creatures more vile than angels. Of course, Dean was beginning to doubt how vile angel were in the first place.

"I heard they caught a few angels outside of the Western Kingdom," Sam went on. "They're going to be your challengers in the ring as well, most likely. You should brush up on angels."

Suppressing a laugh, Dean nodded. "I should, yeah. Angels, Jesus."

Sam hummed in agreement. "Formidable foes, if my reading were correct. They're powerful and bad tempered. Be mindful of their wings. Those things pack enough force to break more than a few bones if they hit hard enough."

Dean gulped despite himself. "Will do."

He and Sam split up soon after, and did not see each other again until dinner that night in the great hall, silverware glistening in the candlelight. The long table was piled on with food; vegetables from the outer villages, a pig roast in the centre, wine in the glasses. How did Dean get so lucky as  to be the son of a manor house owner in a place like the Kingdom of Alkalyr?

"Dean," John spoke from the head of the table. "How is your combat training coming along?"

"Fine, father."

John took a sip of wine. "Good, very good. Would a demon stand a chance against you in a good fight?

"Not in the deepest pit of Hell." Dean said proudly.

"That's my boy!" John chimed, smiling. "Now Dean, the Western Kingdom has... graciously offered us an angel they captured in their mountains a few nights past. I've accepted the offer so that the wings beast may another fighter in the challenge. Which means, you would have to strike the infernal thing down."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances across the table, Sam's expression unreadable as he went back to poking at his food.

"I understand," Dean said slowly, then considered his next words carefully. "Dad, may I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why do we fight the angels?"

John  faltered in his eating, a frown appearing on his face. "Dean, I've told you before, they are ruthless and merciless beasts. They can kill you at the speed of thought, and have no tolerance of humans. We have been fighting against them since they raided our cities many years back."

"Why did they attack?"

"They were angered because we'd taken their land and driven them out by force," John chuckled crudely. "Their land. Well, we showed them, struck dozens of the beasts down while the rest fled into the hills and highlands."

Dean stopped. "How do you kill an angel?"

John nodded with a smile. "I suppose you do need to know how. You'll find out next training day. It requires a very special weapon we obtained from the angels themselves during our battles. We managed to obtain quite a few."

Dean would be lying if he said his interest wasn't intrigued. Of course, his father resumed eating, denying him any further information for the time. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence, and as soon as it was over, Dean was running back up to his room. He sat lying flat on his back, arms outstretched like that day on Impala, riding through the meadow. He sighed, feeling well fed and tired from the day.

Again, his thoughts turned to angels, and he mulled over the information his father had given him. He always described angels that way, everything and everyone did. But all Dean could think about was that angels innocent blue eyes and its fear of him. Perhaps it was a trick; the beast was trying to lull him into a sense of false security before striking. He wanted to believe that was the right answer, but he couldn't bring himself to do so.

What he did do was ask a servant to wake him before dawn. He had someplace to go.

 


	2. Chapter 2

He was running now, having decided to leave Impala in the stables so as not to spook her again. The sun had not yet risen that morning, the sky was still being painted with bright colours as dawn approached. He ran across the meadow, grass licking at his legs and tickling under the palm of his hand as he ran towards the trees, the only place he knew he should start. Indeed, he had no idea why he thought this was good idea but he did.

Dean even took the precaution of bringing along a satchel with him. He'd brought a sketching pad (for studying purposes), stolen some bread and pastries from the kitchen, a few bandages, more for himself in case he with injured, and two small daggers were tucked into the back of his belt. He'd decided the sword was too frightening and heavy, but wasn't so stupid as to go anywhere unarmed.

When he reached the trees he just kept running, weaving around trees, following beaten trails until he came stop at a pond underneath a small waterfall. It crashed down, not as heavy as the bigger ones he'd seen before, but it was loud enough to disrupt the silence. He looked around his field of vision, breath still coming hard. He hadn't found anything by running, maybe is he sat, it would come to him. He wasn't even sure if the angel was still around, but he wanted to try.

So he perched himself with his knees tucked up on a long rock jutting from the ground. Placing his bag down in front of him, he sat still and quiet, watching the trees around him. He heard nothing but the sound of water and leaves and birds. Nothing unusual. He waited for a long while, the hope in his eyes slowly fading as the sun peaked over the horizon. He had been so hoping for just another glimpse of the majestic and confusing creature, but it must be gone.

He saw it before he heard it. Dean caught the flash of wings in his peripheral and turned to see the angel, same blue eyes shining with curiosity peeking out from behind a tree. Dean stiffened, not wanting to scare the thing away again.

"Hello." He started cautiously. He moved a little to face it, but the angel slunk back. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you, it's okay."

The angel made a noise then, and if Dean didn't know any better he'd say it sounded like a scoff. He ignored it and slowly inched a hand towards his bag. The angel obviously saw, because he was watching the movement intensely, wings stretching so it could escape if need be. Dean grabbed the bread and pulled it out. The angel flinched back until Dean held the loaf up to show him what it was.

"I, uh, brought this. Thought you might be, I don't know, hungry?" Dean said dumbly. "I don't even know if angels eat."

The angel sniffed a little, his wings relaxing. Dean broke off a piece of bread and threw it to the ground, still not wanting to risk getting too close the creature. The  angel jumped as the food hit the ground, but slowly made his way back out, sniffing the food at his feet. Watching Dean the whole time, the angel stepped into full view and into the light of the clearing, kneeling down to pick up the bread. He fumbled it around in his hands before nibbling on it slowly.

Now that Dean could see the angel fully, he was transfixed. He was handsome, for an angel. He wore a white robe with cut off sleeves and a collar that went about half way up his neck, adorned with a golden hem. Down the back, ending under each of his shoulder blades, were laces holding the shirt together. A similar gold leather belt wrapped around his waist, and below that he wore a shirt that fell to his knees. Underneath, visible with his kneeling position, was a pair of black pants, slight shorter than the robe itself. His feet were bare apart from the two gold brackets around his ankles, and he had similar ones on his wrists.

What stood out most were his massive wings. They curled around him a little as he ate, pitch black and almost shimmering in the sunlight. They looked velvet smooth, and Dean briefly wondered how they would feel against his fingers. The creature continued to eat, still occasionally fiddling with the bread like it was about to change in his hands.

Dean slid off the rock slowly, closing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. The angel, disturbed by the noise, jumped, dropping the remaining bread and leaping into the air. Dean called after it like he had before, and it worked to some degree. The angel glided back and landed behind another tree across the clearing, eyes glaring at him so intensely Dean couldn't meet it for a long time.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Dean said quietly, unaware if it was hearing or even understanding him at all. "You just looked hungry. You don't act like how angels are supposed to act."

The angel cocked its head and frowned, taking a step out from behind the tree. Bad move. There was a sudden crunch and the angel yelped and collapsed. Dean bolted towards it even as the creature struggled and hissed both in pain and in warning to him. He didn't care and slid down beside the fallen angel to see what had happened. There, clamped tight around its ankle was a bear trap.

"Jeez," Dean muttered, but the angel hissed as he tried to touch it, a wing swinging around and striking him with enough force to knock him on his ass. "I'm trying to help you, you idiot!"

The angel froze at his sudden strong tone. They stared at each other for a while until the creature whimpered and folded its wings back behind his back in what Dean assumed was an invitation to look.

"Okay," Dean said as he approached much more slowly. "It doesn't look like it broke anything. Just a flesh wound. You're going to be okay, I think." The angel watched him the whole time. "Oh, for the love of... I don't even know if you can understand me. I'm not even supposed to be talking to you, let alone helping you. But, I can't..."

He met the eyes of the angel again, and this time they looked sincere. Dean sighed and shifted to get a better angle of the trap.

"Listen, I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt." He said, getting a good grip of the teeth of the trap. "I need to get you out."

The angel continued to stare. Dean shook his head and pulled, muscles straining as he slowly pulled the trap open with nothing but a hiss from the angel. The creature slid its foot out and Dean let the trap snap shut again with a loud crack that startled the angel. It sat hunched over, rubbing at its ankle.

Dean got to his feet. "I can help bandage that, if  you want."

The angel looked up at him then down at his ankle, bleeding from a row of punctures around his skin. It folded its wings again to represent an invitation. Dean huffed and knelt down slowly. He tucked an arm under the angel's knees, the other under its arms and across it's back and lifted the surprisingly light creature off the ground. The angel did nothing but shift in the uncomfortable position, wings readjusting to hang limply over Dean's arm and dragging across the ground.

Straightening his back, Dean carried the wounded creature towards the edge of the water. The angel in his arms was making a strange noise at the back of his throat, almost like purring, and Dean wasn't sure how to respond to that. It let its head fall to his shoulder in a sudden show of trust, which surprised Dean more than the weird noises. He let him down to sit with his feet in the water of the crystal clear pond, fish swimming away at the intrusion.

The angel winced at the cold against its wound and watched as Dean put his satchel down and took out a roll of bandages from the pack, showing it to the angel to prove he wasn't about to harm him. Dean sat cross legged beside the creature, letting him soak his foot and wash some of the blood away. After a couple minutes, Dean motioned for him to lift his leg, which he did carefully, and with a gentle touch he began wrapping the angel's foot under the stare of those blue eyes.

"I'm sorry about this," Dean was saying. " I didn't mean to scare you, or for you to get hurt."

The angel, for once, actually nodded, and Dean's eyes shot up. You can understand me?" Another nod. "Can you talk?" This time, the angel paused, contemplating its answer. Another nod. Dean continued to wrap his wound, wondering if he could actually get the angel to talk to him.

"Listen, this is really messed up. I'm not supposed to be anywhere near angels. My dad told me we're supposed to kill you guys on sight, but there's only one kind of weapon that can do that." The angel tenses, wings retracting. "Relax, I don't have one, and even if I did, I don't...think I could."

They locked eyes again, blue meeting green. The angel only ever nodded in response, so Dean sighed and finished wrapping the bandage, clipping the end in place against his foot.

"There, done." He said, sitting back. "You should stick to flying for a few days to let that heal."

They sat there in silence for a long time, sometimes making eye contact, but most of the time Dean looked to the sky while the angel stared at him, like he was extracting information just by looking at him. At some point, it turned to face him, folding one leg in and letting the other stretch out in front of him.

Dean looked at him after a while, and held out a hand. "I'm Dean."

He suddenly regretted his action. This angel could easily snap his arm in two, and what was with telling it his name? It was like his whole brain just forgot everything his father had ever said. He missed everything else though when the angel took his hand in both of his, shaking it up and down gently, nodding.

Dean smiled at bit at its easy expression. "You must have a name. Angel's have names, don't they?"

Another nod, no surprise. Then, "Castiel."

Dean was surprised by how deep and gruff the angel, Castiel's, voice sounded, having not quite expected it. He nodded in reply, rolling the very angelic sounding name around in its head. It did sound nice, not very threatening.

"Thank you, Dean, for helping me." Castiel was saying. "Not many humans would show such sympathy."

"Yeah, well," Dean huffed, but stopped himself short.

They sat there for another hour, letting the sun reach a good height in the sky. Castiel didn't speak anymore, and really, neither did Dean. It seemed they were both still weary of each other due to the species divide. So Dean gave the angel a sordid farewell and ran off, out of the trees, across the field and back to the manor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter.

"Where were you this morning?"

Dean looked up into his father's agitated glare and thought about a good excuse.  Obviously he wasn't going to tell him he'd been hanging around with an angel, he'd rip him a new one and send someone out to kill Castiel. So he lied.

"I just went on an early ride."

John arched an eyebrow. "And you missed breakfast."

"Sorry," Dean muttered, slinking back as he sat on the edge of his bed.

His father sighed and turned to open the door. "Dean, I expect you to be better behaved than this. You don't leave the manor in the mornings without asking my permission, understood?"

"Yes, sir." Dean bit back his sarcasm.

"Good," John waved for him to leave. "Combat training. Go now. Alistair's gotten out the angel blades for you to practice with."

Dean's eyes shot up, and he felt such an odd mix of excitement and discomfort. He wasn't sure he wanted to do this anymore, but how could he tell his father? Dean was the first born son, the leader and the champion. He was the next in line to own the manor, and their family was in good relations with the family that ruled Alkalyr. He couldn't just back down from a challenge, and couldn't defy history by befriending an angel. Not that he considered Castiel a friend.

His father waved to get his attention, and Dean jumped to his feet and ran from the room. He practically skipped across the courtyard towards the armoury, where he met his combat instructor, Alistair, almost every day. Indeed, the scraggly, tall man was there when Dean bounded through the door, careful not to knock over the assortment of weapons lining each wall.

"Dean, good, you're on time today." Alistair said in way of a greeting.

"Yes, sir." He answered like he'd been trained to from the start.

Alistair reached up onto a high shelf, pushing aside a particularly rusted breast plate and reached back, dragging a hefty box with him. He set it down on the table, pushing aside armour he'd been polishing. He motioned for Dean to come take a look as he took a key off his key ring and unlocked the box, which itself looked as if it hadn't been opened in quite a few years.

"Now, your father had informed me you need to know how to kill an angel." Alistair began. "There's only one way, one weapon that had been known to strike the vile beast dead."

Dean flinched at the term, yet watched in fascination as his instructor opened the lid, revealing a organized row of over a dozen metal swords. Each shone silver, the hilt matching the blade itself, which was about a foot in length, at least. They gleamed and held an awe that captivated Dean as he watched Alistair pick one up, rolling it over in his palm. Strange symbols marked around where blade met hilt.

"These are angel blades." Alistair explained. "You see, back when we were waging the war between our species, over land or rights or conquest, what have you, your father, a young lad at the time, fought against angels who brandished these fine blades. We didn't stand a chance of defeating them when we learned we couldn't kill them. Until your father disarmed one beast, and in a struggle managed to drive the angel's blade straight through its own heart. Turns out the angel's had the only weapon that could kill them."

Dean swallowed, captivated as Alistair continued. "He used it to kill more and more angels, and we stole their blades as we went, until they eventually fled the valley. Each Kingdom and land owner was given these blades, hundreds of them, believe it or not, and these ones were given to your father, along with the manor, for his part in the war."

"Wow," Dean breathed. "I never knew that. Why didn't dad ever tell me about that?"

"I haven't the foggiest." Alistair smirked. "Not my place, boy. Now, take one, and we'll practice. Same routine, different blade. Oh, and remember to watch their wings. Nasty things to come in contact with."

Nodding, Dean lifted a blade out of the box, feeling the weight in his hand. It was cool against his skin, surprisingly light and felt very...empowering. He chuckled to himself and swung it down once, feeling the grip as it moved. Alistair led him outside to the back field. He saw his usual training equipment; archery targets, target dummies, stamina courses, climbing ropes and above ground nets and swings for agility, and his balance course out over the small creek that ran behind the whole place.

Alistair handed Dean his practicing chest plate and helmet, moving off with his own. Den spent his warm up running through the balance and agility courses, Alistair yelling stuff to him about his fast angels were so he had to match it or he was finished. When Dean was already sweating and tired, course completed, Alistair threw an angel blade down in front of him and grabbed his own.

Not usually getting the chance to fight his teacher without formal instruction with a new weapon, Dean reached for the blade cautiously. Which it turns out was good, because as soon as he reached out, Alistair charged, blade ready to strike. Dean ducked and rolled, grabbing the blade in the process and leaping to his feet to face his teacher.

"Hmm, good." Alistair said. "Always be aware or your surroundings. Especially with angels. Their fast, and their wings are faster. Those are going to be the biggest things to avoid. But remember, their also delicate. If you get hold of one, pull the feathers, rip the skin, doesn't matter. Just wound the beast."

Dean nodded and parried another swipe of Alistair's angel blade. Their blades clashed with a sharp metallic sound that resonated a bit in Dean's ears. He quickly grew used to the distraction and the two men, teacher and student, continued to fight into the mid day. When they finally finished, both were panting and covered in dirt. Sweat sat on Dean's brow, his short spiky hair matted against his skin.

As Alistair dismissed him, the man asked, "Dean, put the angel blades away. I trust you can do that? Good lesson today, the same tomorrow."

He left, not to Dean's surprise. He often left right as the lesson finished, leaving Dean to put stuff away. He polished his practice armour back to a nice shine back in the weapon's house, and placed it back on its rack for tomorrow. Then his eyes fell to the two angel blades sitting crossed on the table. Dean wondered if Castiel had a blade like that, or if he knew about the war. He must have, angels were hundreds of years old, weren't they? He must have known.

He placed one of the blades back in the box and locked it quickly, leaving the keys for Alistair to collect. After putting the box back on its high shelf, Dean stared at the angel blade he'd purposely left on the table for a while. Without too much debate, he slipped in into the belt of his pants and hurried out of the armoury.

He headed to his room, stripped and sat down in his bath, rubbing off the dirt and sweat from his body. He sat in the tub, going over every play Alistair had taught him, remembering the feel of the angel blade in his hand. The one he stole sat on his bed, shining in the light through his window. Dean still wasn't sure why he took it, but he felt like he needed to show it to Castiel to get some more answers. It would have to wait until tomorrow, though.

After he bathed, his day continued on as normal. He ate lunch with his father and little brother, went to study session, already bored of the angel lore and returning to fidgeting until the class was over, and spent the night with his father, talking about his training and upcoming challenge while drinking wine. A little more that Dean would have liked. Eventually, late at night, he collapsed back onto his bed.


	4. Chapter 4

His head pounded as he woke up with a huge hangover from last night's activities. Dean groaned as his state of slumber lifted and he rolled over on his bed, face buried in his pillow. Then he remembered what he wanted to do today, and he was wide awake. He dressed, stuck the angel blade carefully in his belt and under his shirt, ate breakfast to minimal discussion from his father and was off within the hour, racing through the field.

Why he was so anxious, he couldn't tell, maybe he just enjoyed the freedom. Dean had avoided the idea that, even after only two days of tense meetings, he found an interest in Castiel the angel. He still wondered why Castiel was there in the first place, the forest being too close to the manor, and therefore off limits to angels. Dean would have to ask him about it today.

When he reached the trees, he already knew where he needed to go, and made his way to the pond, ears filling with the crashing sound of the waterfall. He looked around the tree canopy slowly, then down to the ground. Everything was silent.

"Castiel?" Dean called out, though his voice wavered. He didn't like the eerie silence. He reached around and pulled out the angel blade and it gleamed as the sun caught it. A rustling was all Dean heard before he was being rushed, a blur of movement coming towards him. He was thrown back against a tree, back slamming hard and he lost his air. He couldn't regain it because a hand was around his throat, squeezing hard.

Dean coughed and wheezed, clawing at the fingers. His eye began to water, but focused long enough to let him identify his attacker. It was Castiel. The angel's eyes burned with fury, and something Dean could only place as a hint of sadness as the angel continued to choke him. For a moment, Dean remembered what his father had said about angels being fierce and merciless. Guess he was turning out to be right.

"What are you doing with that?" Castiel growled at him, eyes wandering to the angel blade in Dean's hand. "Have you decided to kill me?"

Oh, _oh_. Dean understood now; Castiel had thought he'd planned to run that blade straight through his heart. The boy quickly let the metal fall from his hand to the ground.

"Cas..." Dean wheezed. "I'm not...wasn't...plea--."

Dean was suddenly lifted from the tree and thrown to the ground, starved lungs heaving in air, and he gagged and coughed, hands scratching at his throat. He rose onto his hands and knees, trembling and swallowing hard as he saw Castiel stepping back guiltily, eyes wide like he hadn't realized his own strength. He opened his wings to fly, but Dean was suddenly hugging him from behind, effectively stopping him from taking flight.

"Oh, no you don't," Dean grit out. "I need to talk to you, so don't go flapping off."

Castiel tensed under the awkward touch, never before feeling so trapped, yet the warmth of the human's body and his seeming lack of anger at his near death made the angel relax again, wings sagging in defeat. Oddly enough, he almost missed it when Dean let go, moving to face the angel.

"Cas," Dean said much more calmly, trying to meet the angel's eyes. "You okay?"

Castiel looked at him sharply, but his eyes didn't look nearly as menacing as before. "My apologies, I thought..."

"I was gonna kill you, right, got that." Dean said, rubbing absently at his bruised throat. "Sorry for scaring you, I just...wanted to talk."

"Why?" Castiel titled his head. "You helped me yesterday, I am grateful, but why have you returned? Why talk to me when all you know is to kill me?"

Dean mulled that around in his head before replying, "I don't want to kill you. I don't think I do, anyways." The angel actually looked relieved to hear that. "I know what I'm supposed to do, but I don't want to do that. You're nothing like what I was told angels are like, and you're a curious one, I can tell. You were watching me just as I was watching you that day we met, were you not? Besides, I wanted to come and check how you were doing. How's the ankle?"

Castiel shifted to reveal his ankle, and Dean was confused to see the bandages were gone and the skin was clean and undamaged, like he'd never been wounded.

"What?"

"Angels have the power of healing," Castiel said quietly. "I did not require your assistance yesterday."

Dean frowned. "The why let me help you?"

"Because you wanted to. Like I said before, not many humans would be so kind. You do intrigue, me, yes. You too are different from what I imagine of mankind."

"Oh, well, thanks, I guess." Dean muttered, and moved to pick up the blade, noticing that Castiel still flinched when he saw it. "Listen, I didn't come here to kill you. I just wanted to show you this. I was wondering if you had one or knew anything about the...wars, long ago."

Castiel's wings quivered and tucked in at his sides, face going dark. "Yes, I know of them, though I was not created during that time, so I did not fight the battles. I also know what this is, and I do possess one. Where did you get this?"

"The armoury, they have a dozen, but there are supposed to be hundreds spread around the kingdom." Dean explained.

"Ruthless," Castiel muttered, fists clenching. "Humans stealing our holy weapons to be used against us should we return. I shouldn't be here if this is what awaits me."

"Why are you here, Cas?" Dean asked suddenly, changing the subject to avoid getting the angel angered. "Shouldn't you be with the other angels over the mountains?"

Castiel visibly shrunk at that remark, wings folding around his body. He didn't answer yet, instead choosing to sit leaned against a tree, wings lying flat on either side of him. Dean hesitantly moved to sit in front of him, their eyes meeting for a long time before he spoke.

"I assume I should trust you enough after these brief encounters to just tell you everything?" he asked, slightly accusingly.

Dean shrugged. "No, you don't. I was just curious, I'm sorry if--."

"I left." Castiel interrupted, obviously deciding he did trust him enough to continue. "Long after the war, after all angels had settled into a new home atop the mountains, I fled. This forest was the nearest place I could find where I felt safe. Then  found out you humans were nearby, but you never found me, so I stayed."

"Why did you leave the angels?" Deans questioned. "Weren't you happy?"

Castiel bowed his head sadly. "I did, once. Dean, what you must understand about angels that your lore never tells is that we are soldiers, made to follow orders. I was a warrior, proud and strong, and I admit, I fought and killed, humans and demons alike. Never before did I find a reason to think any other way was right. Then, I met a human, Anna. She trapped me, but refused to kill me, so I returned the favour by sparing her life when the angels attacked her village. She found me after, and we spoke, like you and I now. She told me of her world, and I heard another side to you humans I had never known. She convinced me that perhaps not all the angels know is truth, much like not all you humans know about us angels is true."

Dean blushed and smiled sheepishly. "So what happened to Anna?"

"Sickness took her, and it did affect me some; she was so sweet. But I took her words with me when I returned to the Holy Host, and I began to see the flaws, the wrongs. I began to question; something an angel should never do. Doubt was not an option as a soldier of Heaven. Yet, I could not turn back. Eventually, we were ordered to attack another village, and I refused. I escaped before the angels could punish me for my insolence. I flew until I crashed here, and I stayed. I quite like it here, among the trees."

Dean was captured by the intense tale, and almost didn't realize that Castiel was looking at him as if expecting a question. "Who's orders did you disobey?"

"The archangel Raphael," Castiel spoke his name harshly. "He seized control when our brother Michael was lost in a battle long before the war between our two species, along with his brother, Lucifer."

"And you just rebelled?" Dean said slack jawed. "You are one brave angel, I'll give you that."

"Thank you," Castiel said, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "May I ask a question of you?"

Dean shrugged.

"Are you disobeying someone by speaking with me?"

Dean swallowed. "Yeah, I guess I am. My father, he owns the manor, he would lock me away forever if he knew I was talking to you. He'd kill you, too."

Castiel flinched. "You won't--?"

"I'm not going to tell him, Cas." Dean said, patting his knee reassuringly.

"I guess we are both rebels in our own way." Castiel said dryly. "We are defying years of history by speaking to each other. You are disobeying your orders to kill by helping me the other day, and I am breaking my laws by sitting among your kind and sharing my stories."

Dean nodded slowly. "Look, I know we had a rocky start, but are we...friends? I mean, I don't want to feel like I'm replacing Anna, because that was kind of harsh..."

"Dean," Castiel stopped him. "Though I am unaccustomed to humans, I would find no fault in calling you my friend."

"Jeez, wait to make it sound so stuffy, Cas." Dean chuckled. What was he doing? He'd just declared friendship with a freakin' angel and was happy about it. His ancestors would be turning in their graves, he was sure. Dean knew this whole thing was going to come back to bite him in the ass, but right now, he was having a hard time finding reason to care. He didn't really have a lot of friends other than Sam because his father kept him on the Winchester manor grounds his whole life, aside from taking him into the big city to see combat matches. Castiel, angel or no, felt like a friend to him.

"May I ask about your past, Dean?" Castiel asked, jerking him from his thoughts.

Dean shrugged, but before he spoke, he decided to move, his ass getting sore. He slid over to sit against the tree beside Castiel, careful not to sit on his beautiful black wing. He was kind of surprised when Castiel, instead of shying away, moved his wing to curl around Dean. He had to admit, the soft brush of feathers at his side was awesome.

"Uh, well, compared to you, I don't have much to tell." Dean started slowly. "My father, his names John, he owns the manor. He got it after his...involvement in the war." When Castiel didn't even flinch, Dean went on. "I have a little brother called Sam, though he's got more of the makings of a scholar than a fighter. I'm kind of glad, actually."

Castiel finally moved, turning to look at him. "Why does that make you happy?"

"Well, because he doesn't have to learn how to kill anything or anybody, and he won't be put in any place where he can get hurt really badly, like an arena. He's a smart kid. I tease him a lot but I love him for it really." Dean smiled when he thought about it. He'd never told anybody that, but he opened up so easily to Cas.

"I see," Castiel said beside him. "Do you yourself not enjoy fighting?"

Nobody have ever asked Dean before, and the question threw him off. "I...I don't know. Actually, I do know. I'm a good fighter, I'm proud of myself, but I don't want to be a warrior. I want to stay home, play with Sammy, talk to my dad about something other than combat training, talk to you without worrying something bad is gonna happen. I just don't want to fight, Cas. Nobody's ever asked me before, and I wish they had."

Castiel's hand found its way to brush against his palm gently, a slight brush of fingers. "It's alright, Dean. I understand, I honestly do." He squeezed his hand in a show of support then let go, much to Dean's disappointment. "I know what it's like to be forced, and to not want to fight."

"Yeah, but I'm not important. I'm one person, why do I get to chose; be different? You're an angel."

"You are important, Dean." Castiel snapped, staring at him intensely. "You are different, because you are here with me, right now. You made your own choice. I may be an angel, but a human too can be just as special."

Dean shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Jeez, lecture a guy much, Cas."

Immediately, the angel backed away, gaze turning away. His wing curled around Dean's body more, but Dean didn't think Cas was even aware he had done it.

"So, what about your mother?" Castiel asked after a moment's silence. Dean tensed, and the angel felt it through his wing. "Dean?"

"She died in a fire when I was little. Angel attack. That's what made my dad want to fight in the first place."

Castiel bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, you didn't set the flames."

"I could have." Castiel says wearily, and they both know it's true.

"Yeah, well, I guess neither of us turned out the way everybody else wanted us to." Dean replied, refusing to dub unnecessary blame on Cas.

The angel hummed in response, hands moving to rest in his lap. Dean and Castiel sat like they had the day before, in silence. It wasn't awkward this time though, they just had some sort of mutual wish for silence at the time. Suddenly, Castiel jumped up onto his feet, holding a hand out for Dean to take, much to the human's surprise. He took it however, rising to his feet.

"What is it, Cas?"

"Come with me." The angel said flatly, and lifted  himself into the air, wings churning the air and leaves around them. Dean raised a hand to block the sun as he watched Cas fly over the canopy. He wasn't flying as fast as when he had been trying to escape, and Dean set himself in motion, hurtling after him.

Castiel flew out of the forest, wings spreading a long shadow over the grass of the meadow as Dean followed, eyes to the sky. He was smiling at how graceful and free the angel looked, like a bird now free from a cage, stretching it's wings. An accurate analogy, it seemed. He glided and swooped, coming down low enough to ruffle a hand in Dean's hair before soaring up out of reach again.

Dean was suddenly seeing a happy, comfortable and playful angel as if he were a naive child. It was as if Castiel had a new profound trust in him and was finally letting his defences down. Dean hoped it wouldn't backfire on him. He too was enjoying Cas' company now that they were on better terms, and their talk had had obviously made some sort of bond on an emotional level. Fast friendships last long, don't they?

Breathing hard, Dean followed the angel around the meadow, every so often yelling out in excitement at the exhilaration or when Castiel did a particular acrobatic. He flapped his wings to gain lift as he flew over the creek, Dean happily running through the ankle high water to follow. He didn't care, he was having fun. Just watching Castiel fly free and perform and smile was like nothing he had ever seen, and he couldn't describe it.

"Dean, watch out!"

Dean lost track of his surroundings, and suddenly the ground was gone, and he cried out. He was falling through air, flipping over mid-air as rocky walls raced past him. The canyon; a huge freakin' hole in the ground that bordered the manor's property and he missed it. He tumbled farther, the ground coming closer and closer, and he yelled again as he began to reach his end.

Then, two arms wrapped under his armpits and around his chest, pulling up harshly, making him groan with the strain. Castiel lifted him from his fall, wings flapping on either side of them until they came back to ground level, and Dean actually yelped with joy. Castiel swooped and dropped him back on his feet, but his knees were shaking and Dean fell forward, rolling onto his back.

He stretched out his trembling limbs, laughing for no comprehendible reason as he stared up at the sky. Castiel landed beside him, eyes burning in annoyance, and yet Dean kept laughing, cheeks turning red. The angel leaned over him.

"I don't understand what's so funny. You nearly died, Dean. Please, be more careful in the future."

Dean grabbed Castiel by his shirt and pulled him down so the angel was sprawled out beside him, one wing coming to stretch across Dean's stomach. He didn't care.

"That was just...wow. Scary as hell, but still..." Dean giggled.

Eventually, Castiel let himself smile, watching Dean's state of euphoria with happy abandon. He still didn't understand Dean's reasoning, but it was funny nonetheless.

"Holy, crap, Dean?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter

Both Castiel and Dean froze, sitting up quickly to see Sam standing a few feet off, eyes wide, mouth open, staring at Cas. Dean had no words, instead jumping to his feet. He was looking for words but lost them as Castiel suddenly took flight, his fear of humans returning and he shot off towards the trees, diving down into the leaves and out of sight. Dean called after him, but it was useless. He turned to face his younger brother, head hung low and his cheeks flushed. Well, now's as good a time as any for the big reveal.

'Sam..."

"Son of a bitch, Dean." Sam said. "What the hell was that?"

"Hey, watch it," Dean said dumbly. "What are you doing out here?"

"Was that an angel? A real live angel?"

"I asked you a question."

"I was looking for you, you've been gone for a while. I knew you came out here a lot, but this..."

"Sam, stop." Dean warned, then took a moment to calm himself down and think. "I guess I have some explaining to do, but not here. Let's just get back to the house."

"Dean..."

"I'll tell you everything, Sammy. Promise."

Indeed, when they got back to the manor, Dean practically dragged his little brother up to his room, waving for him to sit at his desk as he sat down on the edge of his bed.

"So you met him a few days ago?"

Dean sighed and flopped back onto his bed, eyes to this ceiling. "Yeah. His name's Castiel. And yes, he is an angel, wings and everything."

"Okay... what the hell, Dean?"

"Sam--."

"After everything dad told you, everything you've read, and you just go out and chat up an angel? It will kill you!"

" _He_ hasn't yet! He wouldn't..."

"What happened to your neck?"

Dean rubbed absently at the bruises from Cas' hand around his neck. "Misunderstanding."

"He did that, didn't he?" Sam said accusingly. "Damn it, Dean.. Their ruthless, remember--."

Dean snapped, sitting up. "Shut up, Sam!" His little brother actually flinched and slumped in the chair he was sitting in. Dean took a deep breath. "Please, let me explain, then you can bash my brains in."

Sam folded his arms across his chest, but stayed silent, so Dean kept talking. "Look, I saw him a few days ago, he was watching me, then he ran away. The next day, yeah, I admit, I went out looking for him, because I was curious. Dad kept saying angel's kill on sight, so I wondered why he hadn't. Obviously I brought along a weapon, but I didn't need it. I just gave Cas some bread."

" _Cas?_ "

"Let me finish. Anyways, he got stuck in a bear trap, and... it would have been the perfect place to kill him, but I couldn't/ He looked too innocent. He wasn't acting like some merciless, violent beast. So I help him out and bandaged the wound. Turns out angels can heal themselves, though. Today I went back out, and we finally talked. He told me about his past and how he got to living in the forest, and I told him some stuff about me. We kind of grew on each other almost instantly. We were running through the meadow, I lost my bearings and ended up falling right into the damn canyon."

Sam snorted despite himself.

"Shut up. Castiel saved me, pulled me out, and we were just lying here when you showed up. Look, Sam, I know everything we've been told about angels, but I don't know what to believe anymore. Cas he's... he's different. He's nice, and brave, and rebellious and..."

"You sound like you've fallen for him."

Dean blushed and considered snapping at him, but Sam continued. "Dean, I hear what you're saying, but I don't know. He could just be stringing you along. Angels are clever."

"Yeah, I'll give you that one." Dean mumbled. "But I trust him. He's not stringing me along anywhere. I promise."

Sam sighed. "Okay."

"Huh?" Dean frowned.

"I believe you."

"Really, just like that?" Dean scoffed. "What happened to, _remember what dad said_?"

"Dean, I'm not saying I'm itching to meet the dude myself, but if  you trust the angel, Castiel, than I can't really stop you. I don't deny I've questioned the lore and all dad's stories before. I don't really think all angels are like that, but I haven't had proof to say otherwise. Until now."

Dean smiled, chuckling under his breath. "Sammy, you are one amazing and tolerant kid."

"Comes in handy," Sam shrugged. "Just keep this away from dad."

"Yeah, thanks for that," Dean replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "He'd skin me alive."

"And send someone out to kill Castiel." Sam added, and Dean stopped smiling, the same thought crossing his mind a few time in the last few days.

Sam watched his brother's expression change. "Dean ,you okay?"

Dean jumped back to attention. "Yeah,"

"Dean," Sam frowns. "How close are you and Cas?"

Dean never answered, instead storming out of his room and down the hall, not intent on answering the question. It was a dumb question. They were friends, which in and of itself was dangerous. Nothing else but a crazy and unethical interspecies friendship.

Again, he let the day play out as usual: he went the combat practice and managed to put the angel blade back before Alistair knew it was missing, and he avoided the wine that night, going to bed early. His dreams were filled with shimmering black wings and sparkling blue eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day was the day before the tournament, and Dean was getting anxious, as well as nervous. His father woke him up early, fed him a large breakfast and sent him off to the armoury early. Dean was still groggy and a little distracted when Alistair through him an angel blade and  his sword, catching them clumsily.

"Pay attention, boy." Alistair instructed. "Remember, you need to be just as good against the demon as you need to be against the angel. You've never fought either."

"I've seen demon wrestling in the city," Dean mumbled.

Alistair barked a laugh. "Hardly a fit example. Besides, this is an upper class demon; Azazel. Captured the foul thing months ago. Nasty bite on him, so watch the teeth. Remember, they have venom pouches, so one drop of venom is enough to incapacitate someone, any more and it can be fatal."

Dean swallowed. "Right, watch the teeth, watch the wings. Got it."

"Good, now, spar." Alistair said. "We've got extra time, today."

Indeed, the two of them brawled and parried and ran courses until late afternoon, stopping only for lunch and occasional breaks. It was true test of Dean's endurance. By the time Alistair called it quits, the afternoon sun was turning the sky orange. Dean through this sword and blade down on the table, panting and whipping sweat from his forehead. He really needed a bath, but he didn't want to go back to the manor; he needed to talk to Castiel about something again.

So as Alistair left him to clean up, Dean put the weapons and armour away and ran out of the courtyard and to the meadow, careful not to be spotted. He wasn't running as fast, his legs still burning from the exertion of the lesson, and his lungs hurt. He kept going though, feeling the wind cooling him down as it blew past.

He felt the blast of wind before suddenly, two arms snaked down and lifted him, and Dean yelped with the sudden loss of earth beneath his feet. He looked to see Castiel with a nice smile on his face, looking down at him briefly before his gaze turned back to the tree line and he flew with Dean in hand.

"What the hell, Cas?" Dean said, but it didn't sound angry.

"I thought you wouldn't return after yesterday," Castiel said. "I'm glad you did. I enjoy your company."

Dean looked down to the ground, his stomach flipping. "Yeah, well, you can't get rid of me that easy."

"Are you alright?"

"No, I'm just tired, and...afraid."

"Of what?"

"Flying..."

Castiel swooped in through the forest canopy then, making Dean shriek suddenly. The angel landed with a majestic flap of wings, setting Dean down in front of him. The human tried to stand, but his knees buckled and fell against Castiel, who wrapped and arm around him to hold him up.

"My apologies, I over stepped." Castiel said, frowning as he held the human.

Dean shook his head, looking up to meet blue eyes. "Cas, it's fine. Just give a guy some warning next time."

Castiel nodded in reply, and then stared at Dean for a moment, neither moving from each other's arms until Dean suddenly pushed up and away. He backed up, finally taking in their surroundings. They were back in that clearing, pond and running waterfall flowing behind him. This seemed to be their favourite place, probably because it's where they met.

'Dean?" Castiel said quietly.

"Sorry, I..." Dean paused. "I really need a bath."

Castiel came back with, "Yes, you do."

Dean winced at him in response, and looked back to the pond. Crystal clear water, probably over his head in the middle, easily. It'd have to do, since he was here now. Without bothering to worry about the company he was in, Dean stripped off his shirt, revealing his toned chest and back to the angel behind him. Dean continued, stripping off his pants and undergarments until he was naked, and quickly sank into the pond.

He shivered at the cool touch of water on his skin, but he grew used to it as he waded in until it lapped at his waist. Castiel stood on the bank of the pond the whole time, watching with an unreadable expression. Dean splashed water on his chest and arms, then dove under briefly, coming up and spitting a little as he rubbed a hand through his now wet hair.

Then he turned. "Are you just  going to stand there all day?"

Castiel actually jumped. "Excuse me?"

"Cas, you should really clean yourself up."

Castiel frowned, titling his chin as if insulted. "Angel's don't require cleaning."

Dean snorted. "Your wings look pretty ruffled to me."

The angel's appendages slunk back, and he curled one around to examine it. Indeed, the feathers were out of place an dirty. They looked rather unattractive to behold.

"Our wings need to be groomed." Castiel said quietly. "I tried to do it on my own, but I could not reach."

"I'll do it, if you want." Dean offered, knowing he'd wanted to run his fingers through those soft feathers from day one.

"I can't ask that of you, Dean." Castiel shook his head.

"It's no problem."

"Dean..."

"Cas, just get in here."

The angel sighed in defeat. In a flurry of wings and a splash of water, he was suddenly standing beside Dean, naked, wet and strategically keeping his wings outstretched above the water.

"So," Dean said, moving to stand behind Cas in a ripple of water. "Anything I should know?"

"I don't require much," Castiel explained, watching him through his peripheral. "Just some water and brush would be much appreciated, Dean. Thank you." He lowered his wings so they were partly in the water between their two bodies.

With a nod, Dean carefully lifted a hand and ran it gently down the back of one wings, bending his fingers to catch some feathers. They were silky and completely smooth despite how misshapen the feathers looked. It was like running his hands down a fleece of the finest quality, only better. Castiel shivered under his touch.

"You alright, Cas?"

"Yes," Came the shaky reply. "That just feels...my wings are a bit sensitive."

"Oh, sorry." Dean apologized, retracting his hand.

Castiel ruffled his wings, splashing water. "It's alright. It felt good."

Dean arched an eyebrow but put his hands back, this time crooking his fingers to comb through the feathers down the length of his wings. With each stroke, he rejoiced in the feel of feathers and the shivers it got out of the angel. He was pretty sure Castiel was even making that purring sound he'd been making when Dean had first carried him to the pond.

It took longer than Dean thought to make them straighten out and shine in the late afternoon sun, using water to dampen them so he could brush through easier. Somehow, he had moved closer during that time, and with each movement of Cas' wings, the feathers brushed along Dean's stomach and chest, and it felt amazing.

He risked pushing a little closer, hands moving to curl around the inside of the wings and brush down in there. The change elicited a moan from the angel and Cas arched under the gentle touch. Dean pushed so his front was flush against Cas' back, feathers pillowing his chest as he continued to card fingers down the underside of the wings. He slid one hand back to run along the arch of the wing down to where it met shoulder blade, stroking a finger along the stiff joint. Castiel purred a little louder.

"How you doing, Cas?" Dean asked in a surprisingly huffy voice.

"I'm... fine." Castiel whimpered as Dean's hand moved to his other wing joint. "Nobody has touched my wings in a long time. I missed the feeling."

Dean smiled behind him. "Well, I'm pretty much done, and they look pretty good, if I do say so myself."

With a splash of water that startled Dean, Castiel flexed his wings around to he could see them, examining Dean's work. He must have liked what he saw, because he smiled and ran his own hand down his feathers.

"They are fine." He hummed. "Thank you, Dean."

"Anytime," Dean shrugged, and he found he meant it. He looked up at the sky, turning pink with the setting sun, and he frowned. He was reminded that he was running out of time. He had to fight tomorrow, against an angel and a demon. Despite all his training, he didn't feel ready. He didn't know if he could do it, and honestly, he didn't want to. It was just some stupid test.

He hadn't realized Castiel had turned to face him until he heard, "Dean?"

Dean snapped back to reality. "Yeah?"

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, it's just..." he sighed. "The tournaments, tomorrow. I'm supposed to fight to prove I'm a strong warrior to my father, and to his friends, which includes the King of Alkalyr. Cas, I've got to take down a demon...and an angel."

Castiel stiffened, but he didn't look angered. "An angel? They've caught an angel?"

"Yes."

"And they expect you to fight it?"

"Yeah, and a pretty powerful demon. Azazel, they said his name was."

"Oh," Castiel's eyes widened. "I know that demon. He is indeed a force to be reckoned with, even for an angel. Dean, I don't think..."

"I know, I don't want to fight." Dean slouched, running water through his fingers. "But I have to, for my father."

Castiel shook his head. "Either angel or demon could kill you."

"You don't think I know that? But what am I supposed to do?"

Castiel bowed his head, thinking. Then, he looked up hopefully. "Call for me. If you need me, I will come, I'll protect you."

"Cas..."

"I promise you, Dean." Castiel moved to cup his hand with both of his, blue eyes burning into green. "By my life or grace, I shall keep you safe, if you so need it."

"Why?" Dean asked, dumbstruck.

"Because, you are the only one I trust." Castiel said simply. "A friend."

Dean smiled despite himself, and moved to hug Castiel properly for the first time. Castiel stiffened, but he quickly picked up the pace and relaxed, arms coming to circle Dean's waist. His wings curled around to encompass the both of them, a wall of feathers blocking the outside world.

They both dressed soon after and sat together, leaning against the rock Dean had sat upon during their past encounter. Castiel was sitting with his back to the hard surface, Dean sitting in between his outstretched legs, back flush against Castiel's chest. His wings wrapped nicely around them both, folding in Dean's lap. Dean leaned his head against Castiel's shoulder, fingers playing with his feathers absently as the sun beat down on them through the trees.

"By my life," Castiel repeated after the long silence, titling his head to speak into the crook of Dean's neck. "I shall come. Just call. I'll be listening."


	7. Chapter 7

Dean came back just in time for dinner, freshly cleaned and still a little damp. His father didn't seem to have noticed his disappearance, thank God, but Sam gave him a quizzical look when Dean came to table and sat down for dinner.

"How was training, Dean?" John asked. "Good, I trust?"

"Excellent." Dean said, adding enthusiasm to his voice. "I am confident I will be victorious tomorrow."

"Splendid," John chimed. "I'm proud to hear that. I look forward to the challenge tomorrow. I've invited the King to the stadium to watch, as an honour to you when you win."

Dean nodded, but his throat was all to dry. He ate in silence, thankful that John finally turned his attention to Sam, who provided better conversation that evening. After eating, Sam stopped him on his way to his room, that quizzical look plastered on his face again.

"Where were you this afternoon?"

"Out for a ride."

"Dean," Sam sighed. "Stop lying, that's the same excuse you always use, and this is me you're talking to. Were you with Castiel?"

Dean bit his lower lip, turning to walk back to his room, but Sam grabbed his arm again.

"Dean, I'm not mad, I just want to know."

"It's none of your business, Sam." Dean spat.

Sam snorted. "It is. Dean, I get you've found a friend in the angel, but it's going to blow up in your face. Dad's going to find out. You need to do what right and quit while you're ahead."

"He's my friend, Sam," Dean retorted bitterly. "I'll be fine, just leave me alone. I gotta sleep."

Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Dean, you're my big brother, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I won't so just shut up and go." Dean spat.

Sam gave up, shaking his head and leaving, stalking down the corridor to his room. Dean slammed his door a little harder than necessary and flopped down onto his bed, face buried in his pillow. He was edgy: about Sam, his dad, the tournament, Castiel. He was just tired. So he undressed, curled up and slept.

 

_His dream dripped with blood. Red covered his hands, his shirt, was it his? No, he was fine. He looked around. He was standing in complete darkness, black in all corners of his vision. Then there. He saw the demon, huge wings bent and broken, lying on the ground. Dean's sword was buried in its chest. His dream self sighed in relief. Then he saw another body. This one was an angel. Its face was blurred, and it's wings were spread wide and white around him. He too was dead, angel blade stuck upwards through its stomach. The wings were blood covered just like his hands, but other than that, all was clean._

_So who's blood was it? He heard a faint voice, and spun. What he saw made him freeze in the confines of his dreams. John stood a distance from him, back to him, staring at the ground. Lying on the ground, blood dripping from his lips and one wing crushed while the other flapped weakly, was Castiel. Dean's eyes widened., his heart raced, his throat went dry, but he couldn't move. He was stuck, helpless._

_John moved to press a foot against Cas' neck, making the angel struggle weakly. Suddenly an angel blade was in his father's hand, and Dean tried to call out, run, do something, but he was just an enigma in his own head. John moved his foot and plunged the blade through Castiel's neck, a strangled cry escaping the angel's lips. Dean, still stuck, watched in anguish as Castiel struggled briefly, eyes wide and looking to him momentarily before his body went limp. Light blasted out from his body, and Dean was blind, still screaming._

"Cas!"

Dean shot up, sweating and panting, morning sun shining through the window, making him wince. He sat petrified for a while, images of Castiel's dead body still vivid in his mind. What scared Dean most was that he knew what that dream meant. He was afraid to call on Castiel for help because he was sure the angel would be captured and killed without a thought. Dean prayed he wouldn't need help. He was pretty confident in himself, sure, but he'd never done this before.

Dean finally rolled out of bed, taking his mind off his worries to focus on his combat tactics. He went over fighting styles and moves in his head while he dress, his father quizzed him during breakfast, and Alistair even had a short spar with him after words to see if he remembered about how to avoid wings, tails and horns. All these tests Dean passed, and he was feeling lighter on his feet by the time he was saying goodbye to Sam and being hurried out the door and through the courtyard by his father. His little brother called out a wish of luck to him as he left. Maybe Dean wouldn't need Castiel. He seemed to know what he was doing.

By mid morning, many people from around the kingdom had gathered in the stadium just off sight of the Winchester manor, and Dean was giddy with anticipation as he and John made their walk over along the cobblestone road. The arena was actually made my John's father, for demon fights, of course. It wasn't as big as the one in the city, and John didn't actually run many of the events, but it technically belonged to him because of its location. Dean hefted his bag of equipment higher on his shoulders as he straightened his back to look more noble as he entered.

As they came to the gates, one leading to the stands, which a line of people flocked into, the other led to the waiting and warm up area for the fighters.

John turned to face Dean, hands comfortingly on his shoulders. "I'll be watching. Make me proud, son. Prove yourself a warrior." He ruffled Dean's hair and hugged him, Dean returning the embrace with a strong grip before they parted ways.

Dean headed down into the warm up area which led to the fighter's gate. The room had spears and swords lining one wall, shields and armour lining the other. Dean set his bag down on a bench running the length of the room and fished out his chest plate, back plate and chainmail undergarments. He clasped them on, adding to his weight, and worked on the wrist guards. For whatever reason, his father had informed him this was to be done without helmets, which seemed like a stupid idea, but it did mean his sight wasn't limited during the fight, so Dean forgot about it.

His thoughts turned to Castiel as he twirled his sword and the angel blade around in his hands. He wondered if the angel was watching the arena from some hidden place, or if he could actually hear Dean all the way out here. He was hoping not to need him, but the thought of him losing his fight, of Castiel trying to help him, of the angel dying at his feet; it all lingered at the back of his mind.

"Hey, kid." A burly man poked his head into the room. "You ready? The demon's up first."

Dean nodded, setting aside  the angel blade, grabbing a simple round shield, sword handing in his hand. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"Alright, the man said. "Come on, then. And good luck. He's a crazy one."

Swallowing, Dean stepped out into the light of the stadium, cheers erupting from the large crowd as his name and family were announced. Across the way, he could see the portcullis that was keeping the demon, Azazel, contained. He turned away, basking in the roaring and attention he received from the audience. He spotted his father, sitting beside him a fit young man with a brown head of hair and matching beard. He wore regal attire and sat with reformed posture. Their seats were better and rose higher to put them in their own little room. The man must have been the king.

Dean raised his sword in a show of confidence and pride, more cheering coming from all around him. There was a creaking as the gate across the way was raised, and Dean knew the fight was on. The demon leapt from its confines, landing in a crouched position a fair distance  from him. Dean sized him up. Azazel was fit, tall and surprisingly clean compared to others of his kind, and he watched with a sense on intelligence. His large black, leathery wings stretched high above him, bony fingers visible as the light hit them. His tail, ending in a spearhead point, waved back and forth behind him. Two bony horns, short and stubby, jutted from his forehead. The only other defining feature was two glowing yellow eyes staring the human down with fierce intent.

Dean shifted on the balls of his feet, ready to move. The beast snarled and lunged, wings splayed and clawed hand outstretched. Dean jumped to the side, sword cutting a shallow gash across its side as it landed and rolled back to face him. Azazel didn't wait, lunging again, this time catching Dean with a swipe of his hand, sending the human to one knee. Dean groaned as he felt the growing bruise on his back from the blow.

He shifted to his feet, facing the demon straight on. He charged this time, sword held in front of his chest until he was close enough, and he swiped and ducked simultaneously, slicing across one of the demon's wings and dodging the other as it swung around. The demon roared, the crowd applauded, and Dean smirked. He quickly moved out of the demon's range as the creature knelt, wing pulled in front of it protectively. It eyes the bleeding gash across the bone, and grit its teeth.

With one swift and unpredictable movement, it suddenly was in the air and diving clumsily with its injury. Dean tried to move but the demon landed not inches away, tail swinging forward. Dean lifted his shield but the thing did nothing as it shattered into wooden splinters under the force. Now of balance, Dean was struck down to the ground by an elbow, the demon snarling above him. Dean could hear gasps and screams from the spectators.

He lifted his sword but his arms were weak from his fall and the beast took hold of the blade and tossed it aside. It knelt over Dean, hand pressed flat against his chest, nails digging through the armour with ease and sinking into his skin. Dean whimpered, eyes screwed shut. This had looked so much easier when he was just watching the fights. Everything he had seemed useless against it now.

Azazel knelt down, wings flaring to block the view of the audience, and Dean thought he could hear John calling his name, but he lost it amongst the other noises. The demon moved until his nose was nearly touching Dean's, sniffing the sweat and fear emanating from the human.

Dean forgot his prior worries as his mind switched into panic mode. "Castiel! Cas! I need you! I need--."  
The demon snorted and clamped a hand down over his mouth, effectively shutting him up and keeping his skull firmly to the dirt. Dean's mind raced. Castiel, was he coming? Would he come? Was anybody in the stadium actually going to stop this demon before it killed him? How was it planning on doing it? His last question was answered when Azazel bared his teeth, revealing a thin resin coating his fangs. Venom.

Dean struggled uselessly as the demon growled deep in its throat and sank down, its nose brushing along Dean's exposed neck. The crowd yelled and cried out while some actually cheered, the sick bastards. He lost all thought as Azazel sank his teeth in deep, pain shooting through Dean's body as he tensed and his body struggled for freedom. He knew it was useless, and he could feel the venom running through his veins. Eventually, his body stopped moving though he was obviously still alive, helpless. Azazel actually cooed as he continued to poison him.

Then suddenly the weight was gone. The teeth were ripped from his neck and he felt excess venom and blood dripping down his skin. Dean let his mouth fall open in relief, and his mind worked well enough to realize he was being rescued. He let his head loll to the side to see the demon sprawled on the ground a fair distance from him, face twisted with rage. Standing between the demon and Dean in an open fighting stance, wings outstretched to serve as protection and as a warning, was Castiel. If Dean could move, he'd been hugging the guy. Cas had heard him, and he'd kept his promise. He was rescuing his friend.

The crowd had gone deathly silent, obviously shocked to see a free angel enter a stadium to combat the demon. There were faint whispers going around the stands, and eventually some people began to yell obscenities and protests. Castiel ignored them in favour of saving Dean. The demon got to its feet and lunged, teeth bared and wings flared. The angle was faster, turning and batting the foul creature away with his wing, still not moving from his place in front of Dean. he was there to protect, and he wasn't going to let Azazel harm Dean anymore than he already had.

Dean groaned as the venom flowed through his blood, his body paralyzed and yet still burning with pain. His head was focused and swimming at the same time, an eerie feeling as he lay there in the dirt. Blood flowed from his neck wound, soaking into his shoulder and the ground. Castiel wasn't unaware of Dean's state of injury, but he was too focused on killing the demon. Azazel came around, flying low to the ground, and Castiel summoned his angel blade into his hand, clashing blade with claws. The clanging continued as teeth and nails and tail struck against the weapon, Castiel fighting back with graceful movements despite the severity of the battle.

Eventually, Azazel circled him and lunged again. Having predicted this, Castiel moved out of the firing line and reach out, hand grasping the bony joint of one wing. He tugged hard, veering the demon off its course and spinning it towards him. With one swift movement, Castiel stuck the angel blade into the demon's chest, using its full weight to impale the creature. It screeched in agony and slipped from the angel's uncaring grip, dead. A few of the crowd let out cheers, but soon went silent.

Castiel wasted no time and was by Dean's side, kneeling over the wounded human. He surveyed the damage, fingers poking lightly at the punctures in Dean's neck. Castiel frowned, expression turning onto one of worry. He had no experience treating venom. He was sure he could do something, but didn't know how much it would incapacitate Dean. It didn't matter, and Castiel touched two fingers to Dean's forehead. He summoned all his healing power and let it flow into Dean.

"...Cas...?" Dean whimpered quietly, eyes opening a little as his colour returned to his face.

Castiel moved to squeeze his hand gently. "I'm here, Dean. As I promised, I saved you."

Dean tried to smile, head rolling. "You're...amazing."

"Dean! Seize the angel!"

John's voice came so soon that Castiel didn't register before numerous hands of the guards were grabbing at him, ripping the blade from his hand and holding it up as a threat against him. He was pulled back and a net flung over his head, trapping his wings to his sides. He clumsily tripped over his feathers, hitting the ground and rolling onto his back. He growled and bared his teeth as the men manhandled him until he was effectively tied up, his wrists, arms and wings bound to his torso.

"Dean?" John knelt down beside his wounded son. "Dean, come on. Stay with me. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Dean muttered, eyes finally focusing. "Angel..."

"We got him, Dean." John said proudly, watching as Castiel was gagged and led towards the gates. "Fool angel."

Castiel's eyes widened and he looked to Dean, but the boy was still incapacitated. Had he set him up? John had spoken to him as if he had expected this to happen. Had Dean lied and led him here only to be captured? No, he wouldn't do that. They were friends, were they not? He wouldn't... but he did. Castiel's expression turned to one of rage, feeling betrayed by the only friend he's thought he had.

"Take that thing back to my manor and lock it in the cells under the kitchen. I want to talk to this one." John ordered the guards as they left the stadium to the cheering of the crowd. It was then that Dean slipped into unconsciousness. 


	8. Chapter 8

Dean woke up slowly, head pounding and his brow sweaty. He didn't even bother to move, just tried to sleep more, but it didn't come. Lying there, he soon realized he was lying in his bed, sheets pulled up under his arms and he was shirtless, and a damp cloth was pressed to his forehead. A bandage was wrapped around his neck, thick padding where he had, some sort of injury... _Oh_.

His memories came flooding back, and he remembered the painful bite of the demon, venom near killing him. He remembered the bruise on his back, his arm a little red and sore from Azazel's tail shattering his shield. He groaned as he thought back to the fight. He hadn't beaten the demon, and he hadn't gotten the chance to fight the angel.

Angel, angel...Castiel. Cas had come to save him, killed Azazel and healed him, if he remembered right. Then Dean's stomach flipped and a pit opened up, because his biggest fears had come true. John had captured Cas, and locked him up in the manor, no less. Dean was only partially glad he hadn't just killed Cas outright, but it meant that the angel, his friend, was currently trapped and rotting below him.

He wanted to move, to go see him, to talk to his father, but his muscles were too exhausted. Dean lay there for a moment, collecting himself and then tried again. He managed to sit up, head spinning for a moment as he did. His back protested the strain as he turned to put his feet on the cold floor. He grit his teeth and stood up, knees shaking but managing to keep him upright. Whatever Cas did to heal him certainly left him out of it.

His stomach suddenly lurched, and he stumbled to the window, throwing up bits of food and a lot of liquid he didn't even know had been churning around in his stomach. He leaned out the window a long time after the last of the vomit left his stomach, letting his body convulse and relax. He slid back inside, shaking from exertion already. It didn't matter, he wanted to see Castiel. Of course, seeing as he doubted his father would give him permission, he would have to sneak down there. Which, in his state, seemed stupid, but then again, Dean was stubborn.

He made it all the way down to the kitchen without seeing anybody or feeling like his body was about to give out on him. When he turned the corner to enter the cuisine, he jumped when he saw the cook standing with his back to him, scrubbing pots. Dean slumped down behind the nearest table, concealed by bags of wheat and potatoes. Peering out, he saw the cook turn his way, and he ducked down again. To his far left, Dean could see the stairwell that led down to the make shift cells his father had had built many years ago for things like Castiel. Even before Dean doubted his father's beliefs, he wondered about their importance.

The cook finally left the room, and Dean didn't waste any time and bolted down the stair well, bare feet slapping against the stone as he went. He came to the bottom of the stairs and ran the short and narrow corridor. Ahead of him, the room opened up and ran in both directions, housing about six cells in total. In the farthest one to his right, Castiel sat, back to him, wings curled around him, and his hands chained together and to wall.

"Cas!" Dean whispered, his voice echoing off the walls.

Castiel straightened and turned his head, a look of relief coming across his face when he saw Dean. But to Dean's surprise, he suddenly shook his head and he shot him a look of utter hatred and anger and turned away from him. Dean faltered when he got to the cell, leaning against the bars.

"Cas? What's wrong?"

The angel didn't answer, but his wings ruffled, showing he was agitated.

"Cas, please, say something. Talk to me."

"You are doing well." Castiel said stiffly, not moving at all.

"Uh, yeah. I'm okay, I guess." Dean frowned. "A bit wobbly. Cas, why won't you look at me?"

Castiel sighed and shifted to sit sideways, chains rattling as they hung off his wrists. When Cas turned his head, Dean winced. All down one side of his face from temple to jaw line was bruised. A single bruise circled his opposite eye.

"You're father seems to think I was intent on doing you harm." Castiel explained, knowing what Dean was thinking. "He displayed his anger rather feverishly."

"Jesus," Dean breathed. "I'm so sorry, Cas. I didn't mean..."

Castiel glared at him again and turned to look at the wall. Dean slid down to sit on his knees in front of the cell, trying to figure out why Cas was so angry. Obviously he can't have been happy about being captured, beaten and stuck in here, but he wasn't even looking at Dean, and that made him nervous.

"I didn't ask him to hurt you, you know." Dean said, assuming that was why his friend was annoyed.

"No," Castiel hissed bitterly. "You just earned my trust and lured me into a trap."

Dean's jaw dropped and he leaned back, lost for words. Castiel honestly thought Dean had set him up back at the arena? Why would he think that when he himself had offered his assistance? How could he think Dean would do that to him?

"Cas, I don't understand. How could you think--?"

"I heard your father. He made it sound rather obvious you had been trying to capture me this whole time."

Dean thought back to that day, what John had said. _We got him, Dean. Fool angel._ Castiel must have thought Dean had been lying this whole time, and that made Dean's heart break.

"No, no, no. Please, Cas, I didn't do that. I would never, because you're my friend. I wasn't lying about our friendship, and I wasn't abusing your trust."

Castiel snorted, chin titled, but he did glance at him briefly.

"Please," Dean went on. "I trust you, and I thought you trusted me too. So believe me when I tell you that you are my friend, and I didn't set you up. This is exactly the reason I didn't want to call on you in the first place." Dean paused, thinking for a while and catching a glimpse from the silent angel. "And I'm going to get you out."

Castiel looked up at him in surprise, and his gaze lingered. He wasn't sure if he'd heard correctly, but he wanted, more than anything, to believe Dean. He was pretty sure he did, but he still kept his silence.

"I mean it, Cas." Dean said, his green eyes blazing. "You can hate me all you want, think I lied and betrayed you, I don't care, but I'm gonna help you escape. You can go back to the forest, or find somewhere else if you never want to see me again. Because just know that if you stay, I'm gonna come see you every day. Because you are my friend, and I think deep down, you need a friend. You want one so you don't have to be lonely. I get that." Dean swallowed. "It's hard to let go of friends, people you care about. People you l--." Dean stopped short, blushing and bowing his head, fingers curling tightly around the bars.

The angel in the cage shifted to face him now. Castiel wanted to hear the word the hung on Dean's tongue, the same word he himself had been considering almost since they met. Even without knowing the man, Castiel had found him intriguing, feeling the bond they could have before they made it. Castiel had never known this feeling; angel's weren't allowed to feel.

Anna had been the first to explain to him human emotions, to show him what they were, but he had not fully understood them. Until now. Because now he was sitting before Dean Winchester, his one and only friend. The man was causing him to feel, and the angel, though surprised, was not bothered.

Dean got to his feet at the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor. Castiel looked around, taking the moment to touch Dean's fingers, still clutched around the bars, with his own. The small touch made Dean look at him sadly, like it wasn't quite the understanding he wanted. Of course, they were interrupted before either of them could say anything.

John turned the corner and froze, frowning at the sight of his son eying his captive angel, their fingers brushing. "Dean?!"

"Dad," Dean jumped back, avoiding Cas' gaze by staring at the floor.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You should be resting. You're still weak." John could have sworn the angel growled, but he went on. "What are you doing down here with this thing?"

" _He_ has a name." Dean snapped, and immediately regretted it.

John was flustered. "What?" Dean didn't speak again. "Dean, got upstairs and wait in the great hall. I'll be with you shortly."

Dean nodded, rushing past him without glancing back. Once he was gone, John approached the cage and the angel sank back, curling it's wings around it defensively. Castiel pulled against the chains annoyingly, staring fiercely into the eyes of his captor.

"What were you talking to my son about, angel?" John demanded, leaning into the bars of the cell. "Tell me!"

Not at all intimidated, Castiel held his silence.

"Were you filling his head with lies? That's all you do, you and your kind. Corrupt and conquer and kill. Savages."

Castiel bristled, but still said nothing.

"If you're trying to make an indecent man out of my son, I assure you, I will have him rip your wings out to prove his worth."

"He is worthy," Castiel finally spoke, surprising John. "You are the one lying to him. He is kind, and brave, and no demon or angel fight will prove that. He has a good heart, and would not follow you blindly. Most of what you know of angels is false, you fool. You know nothing of your own history, and you know nothing of your own son."

John slammed his hands against the bars, making the angel jump. "You arrogant creature! I should whip you within an inch of your life and rip out your feathers one by one. Hang you by a noose of your own making."

"In the end," Castiel smirked. "I am still right. If I am to die by your hand, you should know that."

John burned with anger, but instead of opening the cell and knocking some sense into the beast, he stormed out, still needing to talk to his son. This was serious. He strode toward the great hall, demanding the guards and servants leave the room, shutting the door behind him. Dean was sitting at the end of the table, head bowed and hands fiddling in his lap.

"Dean, what did you think you were doing?" John barked.

His son flinched. "I was...talking..."

"To an angel, you fool! After everything I taught you, the stories you've heard, and you still disobey. How long have you known about this beast?"

Dean's eyes widened. Was he really so easy to read? "A few days. I... found him..."

"And you failed to kill him, or inform me?"

"He didn't try to attack me, he was just--."

"Dean, I don't want excuses!" John spat. "I want you to understand your wrong doings here. Never, never make contact with an angel. They will kill you and are not worthy of your trust."

"Dad--."

"No," John interrupted again. "I don't want you to speak, just listen. You are never to speak to this creature again, understood? You are to stay within the manor house from now on, unless I say otherwise. If you ever speak of angels as anything other than what I taught you, you will be punished. You have to learn, Dean, angels are _not_ our allies."

So many retorts came bubbling to the surface, but Dean held them at bay, nodding with clenched teeth. His father was being unfair and insufferable, but a negative word against him would only make things worse. Dean stormed out of the room in silence, making it up to his room before he slammed the door and threw a particularly heavy book at the wall in anger.

He didn't care what his father said, Castiel was his friends, and whether the angel wanted it or not, Dean was going to help him escape.

Dean had planned to wait a day, but after what his father said and what had already happened to Cas, he didn't want to wait. Besides, it wasn't like the plan was extremely complicated. All he had to do was sneak down to the cells, beak Castiel out and get hi the courtyard where he could fly to safety. Simple enough, unless he got caught, plus, he didn't know where the keys to Cas' chains would be. Obviously his father had them, but where?

As he paced back and forth in his room, he managed to think of a back up that may or may not work, but it would have to do.  Dean waited until after dinner and after he was sure everyone had gone to sleep. He himself snuck out the armoury first, grabbing the only weapon he thought could break the chains. Once in his possession, Dean hurried back, veering off course from his room and heading towards the kitchen. Thankfully, nobody was there this time and he hurried down towards the cells.

Once around the corner, Dean was confronted with a dim light coming from the dying torches on the walls. Over to far right, Dean could see Castiel curled up with his wings folded over him like a blanket, resting soundly. He actually looked peaceful considering the circumstance. Dean walked over quietly until he came to rest against the bars, peering into the cell.

"Cas?" The angel shifted and raised his head to peer at Dean, his expression unreadable. Dean assumed Castiel was still mad at him and feeling betrayed. He sighed, but didn't have time to change his mind.

From out of his belt, Dean pulled out his weapon, an angel blade. Castiel's eyes widened and he tenses at the sight of the weapon. Dean said nothing about it and lifted the blade, striking down on the lock on the bars. It made a dent, but didn't break. It took four more strikes before the lock hung lamely by one tooth and Dean could rip it off with one hand. The whole time, Castiel watched with intense focus.

Dean pulled the heavy door open, metal creaking and scraping across the floor. He jumped inside and moved towards Cas slowly, angel blade held low so it didn't look threatening.

"Okay, Cas. I don't care if you trust me or not," Dean said quietly, coming even closer. "But you need to hold still."

The angel didn't so much other than blink and nod a bit, so Dean sighed and took hold of the chains nearest Castiel's bound wrists. He raised the angel blade, ignoring Castiel's nervous flinch, and struck down like he had on the lock, the chains rattling and giving under the powerful blade in one swipe.

Dean chuckled to himself as he pulled off the chains and cuffs from around Cas' wrists. "Good thing this isn't a full time prison, or this would have been a lot harder."

Castiel stared blankly at him, rubbing his wrists absently, a very human reaction. Dean sighed again, smile slipping and gently took hold of Cas' hand, a little surprised the angel let him.

"Come on, let's get you out of here." Dean said, tucking the angel blade back into his belt and pulling the angel out of the room. Back through the kitchen, down the corridor. So far, nobody was around. They moved out into the open space of the courtyard, moist grass crunching under their feet. Castiel's wings picked up the breeze and fluttered a little, making Dean hide a smile. He led Castiel out into the most open space and stopped, taking a deep breath before turning to face the angel. They looked at each other for a long time not saying anything. It was like they were trying to figure each other out.

"Cas," Dean finally spoke. "You should go, now."

Castiel cocked his head to the side, looking genuinely pained for the first time. "Dean..."

"Hey!" Someone suddenly shouted, making them both turn towards the guard tower. "Angel! The angel is escaping!" A bell rang out in the silence, signalling the guards. Dean had forgotten all about them.

He cursed under his breath and pushed Castiel by the shoulders. "Go, you fool! They'll catch you and kill you. Leave, now!"

Castiel spread his wings wide, looking back to Dean and trying to express everything he was feeling: worry, regret, thanks... he wasn't sure how much of it came through, but Dean smiled sadly one more time to him. The angel sighed and flapped, black wings flinging him into the sky and into the night, blending into the darkness as he rose.

Soon afterwards, as Dean stood there staring at empty sky, his heart sinking low in his chest, his father arrived.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sexualitiy.

Dean was dragged by his arm and shoved into his room, stumbling to his bed. John had arrived soon after Castiel left, fuming and cursing. Sam had been woken up too, and he had shared a very accusing and sympathetic look with his older brother. Dean wasn't sure which one he should have taken to heart, because Sam hadn't said anything to him.

"What in hell were you doing?!" John was yelling. "You let the angel escape!"

Dean slunk back on his bed, feeling dizzy and his arm hurting.

"How could you disgrace me like that?" John went on. "Did the angel escape or did you free him, too?"

Dean said nothing.

"Answer me!"

"He was innocent," Dean muttered quietly, his eyes beginning to water.

"He was an angel, the enemy!" John retorted. "They are not innocent! I thought I could talk some sense into you, but it seems I was wrong." John moved to the door, sticking a think key into the lock on the outside. "You are to stay here from now on, until I decide otherwise. Your meals will be brought to you."

"Dad..." Dean protested.

"Learn your place, Dean." John snapped. "And learn your errors. I've got to go send a hunting party out after that damn angel now."

"Why can't you just leave him?" Dean pleaded, a tear finally slipping down his cheek.

John snorted. "Like I said, you must learn. Angels are to be killed on sight. This one must die like all the rest."

"No!"

"Goodnight, Dean." John said, and left the room. There was aloud click of the lock and the sound of footsteps receding.

Dean groaned in frustration and collapsed on his bed, face buried in his thick pillows. He pulled the angel blade out and threw it onto his writing desk with a loud clang. His fingers curled around the sheets as he raged quietly to himself about how unfair this was. It was madness. He knew his father and the guards he had hired. They'd find Castiel one way or another and strike him down without a thought, and now Dean was helpless to do anything.

He felt more tears falling from his eyes, dampening his cheeks and the pillow under his head. He thought back to that day by the bond, when he'd helped Castiel when he was injured. The next day when he'd actually had a proper conversation with him, and they'd raced through the meadow like a free bird and a wild horse, and laughed until Sam had shown up. Dean thought about running his fingers down silken feathers, the shudders and purring it had elicited from Cas, and his promise as a friend to keep him safe. It was all over, and so far away.

Maybe not. There was fluttering at his window and Dean froze, getting the unmistakable feeling of eyes peering at him. He turned over slowly, gaze moving to his window. A dark shape was crouched on his windowsill, two large shapes sitting out in the open air behind it.

'What...Cas?"

"Hello, Dean." Castiel said smoothly, stepping down to stand on the floor.

Dean actually giggled in relief, jumping up and running to hug the angel, thankful when Castiel immediately returned the embrace, head pressed against his.

"Jesus, I thought..." Dean stuttered. "I thought you hated me, weren't coming back."

Castiel squeezed him reassuringly. "I admit, I had my doubts. But I do trust you, Dean. I believed you."

Dean smiled and wiped at his wet cheeks, sniffing quietly without moving from Cas' arm embrace and the walls of feathers that had moved to circle them.

"You cried because of me?" Castiel asked, surprised.

Dean chuckled. "I thought I was never gonna see you again. I wasn't lying about finding you every day, though. Even if you hadn't shown up, I would still be in that forest every day, calling your name."

"I know," Castiel whispered next to his ear. "and I would have come, every time."

Dean beamed despite himself, the thought filling him with a warm feeling. "Cas, can I, uh, ask you a question?"

"Of course," Came the reply, and the two finally parted to look each other in the eye. Dean was vaguely aware of how Cas' wings still curled around his back as he spoke.

"Can you...uh, you know, feel emotions and stuff? Like love?" Dean blushed.

Castiel though, simply titled his head. "Anna tried to explain them to me many years ago, and I think...I think I must have felt something."

"Oh," Dean breathed, eyes falling to the floor. "Did you love her? Anna, I mean."

"No," Cas answered slowly. "She had a lover, but I was not him, and I did not wish to be. I could not feel love the way humans do."

Dean frowned, disappointment crossing his face. "Oh, I see."

To his surprise, Castiel moved then, coming to stand a few inches apart, his nose almost touching Dean's. His eyes were serious but soft. "Dean, that does not mean I don't feel it now."

Dean looked up at his stunning blue eyes, then his gaze fell to his lips, and Dean involuntarily licked his own. They were so close, and alone, and Castiel seemed more than willing.. His wings hugged Dean's back, pulling him in, holding him tenderly. Dean slipped his hands up Cas' arms and let them rest against his neck, pulling him in to close the gap.

Their lips pressed together softly and sweetly. It was chaste, Castiel still hugging Dean close as Dean rubbed his thumbs absently back and forth on Cas' skin, fingers playing with the dark hair at the back of his neck. Dean moved so they were standing with their chests pressed together, his hands slipping across Cas' broad shoulders and down his arms, lacing their fingers together.

When they parted, Castiel sighed and pressed their foreheads together. "I suppose I'm breaking some sort of rule by doing this."

"You and me, both." Dean said quietly.

Castiel shifted, wings wrapping fully and tightly around them, holding Dean close. "I don't find I care for it."

Dean only nodded in response, and their lips locked again. This time Dean angled his head, sliding their lips together. Castiel gladly followed his lead, a hand coming up to snake around Dean's waist. Eventually Dean managed to push his tongue past chapped lips and tasted the sweet, fresh taste of Castiel. Their tongues touched, making the angel shudder as they twined and danced inside his mouth.

"Dean..." he gasped.

Dean smiled and took Castiel's hand, kissing the knuckles before putting it just under the hem of his own shirt, a soft press against Dean's flesh. "It's okay, Cas."

Castiel kissed him hard again, hand sliding up across Dean's skin, making the human shiver. He moved his other hand up and under his shirt, both hands splaying across Dean's chest, and then Dean moaned. With a swift movement, Castiel moved back down and grabbed the hem of Dean's shirt, tugging it up over his head and discarding it on the floor. He eyed Dean's chest momentarily before being pulled back into a deep kiss.

Dean pulled back, a sudden loss of warmth, making Castiel actually whimper. Dean moved back and sat on his bed, smiling suggestively, holding out a hand for Cas to take. The angel did, happily, and felt Dean pull him forward until he was sitting on the bed. Dean moved to straddle his lap, hands sliding down the sides of Castiel's body. They stared at each other for a moment before Dean dived in for another greedy kiss, which Castiel gladly supplied.

He ran his smooth fingers up the arch of Dean's bare back and back down over his thighs, making another shiver course through his body. Dean started moving his hands back and his fingers began pulling at the string laces at the back of his shirt, one running up under each wing. He undid them skilfully, never parting lips as their tongues continued to dance together. Castiel's wings quivered as the laces finally came loose, and Dean slid the garment off his shoulders, falling to pool at his waist where Castiel's belt was still clasped.

Dean didn't bother with that right then, instead tracing the contours of the angel's chest and back, fingers stroking up along the wing joint. Cas gasped when Dean squeezed a clump of feathers near his shoulder, making Dean give him a sly smile.

"They really are sensitive, aren't they?"

Castiel nodded as Dean moved to kiss the corner of his mouth. "It feels..."

"Shh," Dean whispered against his lips. "It's alright."

The kissed passionately, Dean's hands roaming over every feather of Cas' wings before sliding back to his skin, stroking up and down his back. Cas moaned as Dean moved to kiss a trail of kissed down the angel's jaw before sucking at his pulse. The angel shivered, turning into a quivering mess as Dean slid his fingers through his feathers again. Castiel dug his nails into Dean's back, making Dean pause, panting against Cas' neck as the angel drew shapes sensually with his fingers along his shoulder blades.

Dean moved his mouth back to Cas', sliding even closer in his lap and titling his head. His hands moved back to the angel's sides, stroking up and down over the skin. Dean subtly let one hand slide lower, tracing the belt at Cas' waist. He moved around the back and found the clasp, undoing it silently. Castiel seemed to have noticed but didn't react as Dean pulled the leather away and dropped it to the floor. Instead, Castiel followed his lead and tangled his fingers into the buckle of Dean's belt, pulling him closer as he removing it.

Castiel leaned until he was lying on his back, wings outstretched and hanging limp over the edge of the bed. Dean gave Cas a chance to shimmy further up the bed before crawling up on top of him, rubbing their bare chests together. Dean let his hands move down and slide Castiel's robe off his hips, letting them fall to the floor with the rest of the clothes. Now the angel wore nothing but his black underpants, bulging at the front. Dean made quick work of sliding his own pants off, dragging his underwear with them, and he was naked, pressing his own arousal against Castiel's.

The angel moaned, his mouth hanging open at the friction, and he tugged his last remaining clothing item off, finally feeling skin on skin at every point of his body. Dean rocked his hips slowly, lips moving against Cas' in a slow slide of tongues and flesh. Castiel moved with each thrust of Dean's hips, feeling the heat and sensation with each touch. He arched his back off the bed as his hardness rubbed against Dean's hip. Eventually, Dean snaked a hand down between them and brushed a finger up his length, drawing a moan of pleasure from Castiel.

"Dean, I don't know..."

Castiel was cut off as Dean swallowed his words, fingers curling around his cock. "Make love to me, Cas." Dean breathed, mouthing along the angel's neck and down. "I want to feel you." He sucked at the skin between neck and shoulder as Castiel gasped in pleasure, hands holding Dean's sides as he stroked down his length. His wings twitched and fluffed with each touch.

Castiel finally managed to nod and rolled them over, trapping Dean's hand against his stomach as he attacked his mouth hungrily. He'd never done this before, he was an angel after all, but for Dean, he was eager, wanting. If Dean wanted to feel him, Castiel would oblige. He kissed down Dean's chest, thumbs brushing across the skin and hardened nipples as he went, until he stopped to press a lingering kiss to Dean's stomach. This was all new to the angel, and yet he knew what he was doing, and knew Dean was loving it, loving him.

Castiel kissed his way back up, sucking his neck momentarily, listening to Dean's ragged breathing and whispered pleas for more. "Dean, I don't know how you wish to do this."

"I want..." Dean swallowed dryly. "On my back. I want to see you."

Castiel nodded and lifted off, supporting himself by his hands on either side of Dean's head. He found the nearest liquid he could find, a jug of water at Dean's bedside table, and slicked his fingers in it. Even without experience, Cas knew water wasn't thick enough, so he'd have to take more time preparing so as to not hurt Dean. He moved his hand lower to circle Dean's entrance before slowly pushing in with one finger. Dean gasped in ecstasy and his fingers curled into the bed sheets.

One finger became two, and Castiel was thorough, eventually scissoring his fingers when he felt Dean was slick enough. Dean was panting, muscled arms tensed so he didn't thrust prematurely. His cock was painfully hard now, and he couldn't wait to feel Cas fully inside him. Dean wet his own fingers and rubbed them up and down Cas' cock to slicken him up, and the angel breathed shakily. Castiel pushed three fingers in and out, and Dean lost his train of thought. In fact, he didn't even think he could keep a thought straight in his head anymore.

"Cas...please..."

Castiel kissed him chastely on the lips as he slid his fingers out. Pushing Dean's legs further apart, he slid between them as his wings flared in excitement. He nudged his cock against Dean's entrance.

"Tell me if you wish to stop."

Dean nodded slowly, eyes glazed as he watched Castiel move. The angel slid forward, pushing in slowly, watching Dean's mouth open, releasing a soft moan. Castiel pushed forward without pausing until he was fully sheathed inside Dean, gasping as he felt tight heat around his length. Dean was still underneath him, revelling in the feeling of Castiel inside him.

"You can...move." Dean groaned deeply.

Castiel obliged, rocking his hips forward to pull a moan from his lover, and another and another as he set up a rhythm. Dean's legs wrapped around Cas' waist, pulling him down so he could plant a messy kiss on his swollen lips. The new position made Dean gasp into his mouth as he nailed his prostate with each thrust. Dean clung to him, nails scratching across the angel's back as he took him harder and deeper. Cas' wings flexed and fluttered with each movement. Wanting to help relieve Dean, Castiel traced his fingers down Dean's stomach until he came to his cock, and gently ran his finger down the length and up underneath.

"Holy hell, Cas!" Dean cried, eyes screwing shut at the sensation, arching up to press their bodies together. He was close, so close.

Castiel stroked his cock with delicate fingers, squeezing occasionally to get another moan from the writhing human underneath him. His own thrusts inside Dean lost some rhythm as he picked up the pace, matching each stroke with a thrust. He was losing it, panting against Dean's cheek, feeling Dean's own breaths on his neck.

One more long stroke and Dean came with a whimper, releasing wet moisture over both their stomachs before collapsing on the bed, panting. The clench of Dean's body pulled Castiel over too, and he shot Dean full of warmth, his body tense and tight as he thrust weakly through the aftershocks. Castiel fell to lay on top of Dean, slipping out after catching enough air in his lungs.

They both glistened with sweat, breathing hard and fast, spent cocks pressed into each other's hips as they lay together. Dean rolled them over so Cas was on his back and Dean way lying half on top of him, face pressed against the angel's shoulder. Castiel circled Dean with his arms, one hand on his lower back and the other ruffling his hair. His quivering black wings came and covered them in a blanket of silken feathers, a soothing feeling against Dean's skin, and he sighed.

"Cas, that was amazing."

The angel nodded. "I agree."

Dean snuggled closer, enjoying the breathing from his lover, the warmth of his body and the soft brush of wings against his back as they breathed. He let his eyes close, enjoying the bliss of finally making love to Castiel, the angel who had turned his world upside down while still made him fall in love with him. Unfortunately, all that did was remind Dean that Castiel would have to leave, and Dean would be left alone.

"My father's sending a hunting party out after you." Dean whispered after a long moment of silence.

Castiel tensed. "I have to leave, don't I?"

"It would be..." Dean bit back a whimper. "For the best. He'll kill you if he finds you."

"He could easily find me in here, with you," Castiel retorted, hugging him closer. "Then he would really be upset to know I deflowered his son."

Dean frowned, eyes opening. "How do you know...?"

"I could sense it," Castiel rubbed his hand up and down Dean's sweat slick back. "It's alright, Dean. I am glad you chose me."

Dean smiled a little despite himself. "Cas, please. Just be safe. When morning comes, take off, escape."

"I don't want to leave." Castiel admitted."I want to stay here with you."

Dean winced, a pain growing his chest. "I know, I want that too. But  I also want you to live."

"What is there for me to live for?" Castiel said bitterly. "I live every day in exile from humans and from my own kin. What am I without you now?"

"Free." Was Dean's only reply.

"Free...?"

Dean nodded against his shoulder. "Free to live without fear, without heartbreak. You're an angel, you don't need emotions, or me. You have freedom, and free will. Find something to fight for. Hell, stop that Raphael guy if you want, just find something to believe in."

Castiel buried his face in Dean's hair. "I already have."


	10. Chapter 10

Dean woke up on his side, facing the window and the dull light that came through on that cloudy morning. He didn't move, just sighed and sunk his head back into the pillow. The he was aware of the warmth at his back. More specifically the warm body curled around his back. He was about to jump when he remembered it was Cas, his angel, his lover. Dean liked being able to call him that. There was the light weight of feathers and Dean looked down to see Castiel's wing was still covering him while the other was stretched over their heads. The feathers were something Dean would have loved to wake up to every morning if he could.

He sighed and rolled over slowly, mindful not to pull any feathers. He faced Castiel, the angel fast asleep, his hair unbelievably messy. He looked so peaceful, and Dean just stared for a while, tracing a finger gently down his neck, over his shoulder and down his well-muscled chest. Castiel shifted a bit and his eyes opened slowly, his hand almost immediately coming up to lace fingers with Dean's.

"Good morning." He said quietly, moving closer to nuzzle Dean's neck.

Dean hummed and moved his arms around Cas' back to hold him as the snuggled closer. Dean, having never had sex before now, had not been exposed to cuddling, but he found with Cas in his arms, he didn't mind it as much as he thought he would. He traced Cas' wing joints absently as the angel purred into the crook of his neck.

"I find it kind of odd you can make that noise." Dean said.

Castiel stopped abruptly. "It's a reflex, my apologies."

"Nah, it's alright. It's kind of cute, actually."

Dean felt Cas smile into his skin and the purring slowly came back as Dean moved his fingers to stroke through feathers.

"Do you want these groomed before you...go?" Dean asked slowly.

Castiel stiffened, wings tightening around them. "I would appreciate it if you would."

A sudden knocking at the door stopped them from saying anything more. "Dean?" It was Sam. "Dean, I've got breakfast, and I want to talk to you. Get up! I've got the key, so look decent before I walk in on parts of you I don't want to see."

 _Oh, it's something you don't want to see, alright._ Dean jumped off the bed, grabbing Castiel's belt and robe and tossing it to the angel still sitting on his bed.

"Cas, hide somewhere, anywhere." Dean hissed before looking at the door. "Hold on a second, Sammy."

"It's Sam." was the reply.

Castiel quickly dressed, though the laces remained undone as he leapt up onto the windowsill. Dean was about to ask what he was doing but the angel lifted a finger to his lips to silence him.

"I'll be outside." Castiel whispered, placing a chaste kiss to the man's lips. "I'll return, don't worry." With a stretch of his wings he leapt into the air, soaring up and out of sight. Dean watched for a moment, trying to figure out where he was going before he remembered himself.

He pulled on a fresh pair of pants but kept the shirt from last night, running a hand through his hair to clean it up a little. He threw his belt and old pants over the chair of his desk and hurriedly straightened out the bed, still smelling the subtle scent of Castiel and of sex. He hoped Sam wouldn't notice. Dean was almost done when he found a single black feather sitting on Cas' pillow, and he flicked it through his fingers lightly. It reminded him of a parting gift.

"Dean! Hurry up."

Dean jumped and stuck the feather under his pillow and finally sat on the bed. "Okay, I'm good."

There was he loud click of a key and Sam pushed the door open, a tray of vegetables and meat in his hands. A glass of water sat next to a biscuit on the side. His little brother shut the door with his foot and set the food down on Dean desk before coming to stand in front on his older brother, arms folded over his chest.

Dean couldn't read his expression. "What?"

"You helped the angel escape?"

"Oh, for the love of... Sam, I don't want to have this argument with you." Dean said bitterly.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not trying to argue. I'm not dad. I just want to understand."

"Understand what?"

"What it is about this angel--."

"Castiel."

"What it is about _Castiel_ that makes  you risk your life and freedom for him."

Dean sat slumped and silent for a long time, pain in his eyes. Sam obviously picked up on it, because he inhaled sharply. "Dean, do you love him?"

"Yes," Dean answered quickly, and he knew without much thought that he meant it. Cas meant so much to him, and he couldn't give a rat's ass about who that annoyed or what ancient laws or rules it broke. He loved him.

"Wow," Sam said flatly. "Okay, an angel. Odd choice but, okay."

"Sam..."

"Dean," Sam stopped him. "I don't care for dad's violence. I know what he did to Cas when he was in the cells, the bruises, I mean. I know what dad told me about the fight in the ring, though I'm sure  you have a different story, and it's probably truth. But I told you this would come back to bite you, and it did. I saw you that day, though. I saw you and Castiel laughing and running through the meadow. I don't think I've seen you that happy in a long time. I just want to understand why he's worth your love. I'm not here to tell you can't love him, because I'm tired of believing all angels are monsters."

Dean was astounded. His brother, his fantastic, wonderful little brother wasn't only saying he could care less about dad and that Dean could love who he wanted, but he was also giving Dean the chance to explain, and for him to listen.

"I love him," Dean said slowly. "Because he's different, and passionate, and loyal and brave. Even from the start, he never hurt me, he would always just watch. And when we talked, he told me about his past, how he rebelled against the angels for freedom."

"Whoa," Sam whispered.

"Yeah, and he looked so happy when we spoke, or played. I love the way he purrs when I brush his feathers, and I love the way his mouth tastes."

Sam cocked an eyebrow, but remained silent, so Dean continued. "He saved me back at the arena, stopped that demon and healed the poison from my blood. Dad has no idea because all he ever wanted to believe was that Cas would hurt me. But he wouldn't; not now, not ever. I love him, Sam."

"I got that," Sam smiled sincerely. "Dean, you like making things difficult for yourself, don't you?"

"Apparently," Dean replied, shrugging.

Sam sighed. "Okay, was Castiel here last night? Because judging by what you just said and the fact it smells like sex and sweat in here makes me nervous."

Dean chuckled, cheeks turning red. "Uh, about that--."

"No, you know what, I don't want to know." Sam backed off, heading for the door. "Dean, I'm happy you've found someone who makes you that happy, and I'm sorry if I ever made you think I didn't. Just remember, Castiel is an angel, and dad's out for him. You might have to make a hard choice here, and I'm sorry." Sam bowed his head. "Whatever happens, please be safe, and be careful."

"I will." Dean's smile slipped. "You're awesome, Sammy."

"I know," Came Sam' cocky reply before he was closing the door behind him, key locking back in place. Dean sighed heavily and flopped back on his back, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. He still couldn't believe his brother was alright with all this, but then again, Sam had a lot more to him than most people realized. The fluttering through his window told Dean that Castiel had returned.

"Hey, Cas." Dean said in way of greeting. "How did you find my room in the manor anyways?"

Castiel moved to hug Dean from behind, hands running up his sides as he breathed against the back of the man's neck. "I'm very vigilant. What did your brother say?"

Dean leaned back into the embrace, shivering with the breath on his skin. "I think he just gave me permission to be with you. Of course, I didn't really need it."

"I am glad to hear that," Cas murmured, pressing a kiss to the knob of his spine. The angel's hands moved forward across his stomach, sinking lower to trace along Dean's hips.

Dean put his hands on the angel's to stop him. "Cas, please. We don't have time, I only wish we did." he swallowed down a suddenly dry throat. "Please, you need to go before anyone else comes."

The angel moved his hands back up to hug around his chest. "Dean, I don't want..."

"I know," Dean shushed him, fingers lacing with his. "Bu it's safer this way."

Castiel tensed and he brushed the longer, finer feathers at the base of his wings up Dean's arms. It was a slight show of comfort and longing, but not nearly enough. He'd only just found these emotions, only just found Dean, and now it was being ripped from him. Dean turned in his arms to return the hug, his fingers gently doing up the laces under his wings. He took a short moment to brush out the feathers, not quite working up the gumption to groom them properly. Their cheeks brushed as they moved into a deep kiss, Castiel's fingers tracing down Dean's face.

Castiel stopped, eyes glancing past Dean's head. "What's that?"

Dean turned and followed his gaze to his pillow. Underneath it, still sticking out a little, was the single black feather. Dean smiled sadly and picked it up, handing it to Cas.

"It's your feather. Must have fallen out while we were sleeping."

The angel hummed, eyeing his own feather carefully like it wasn't what he thought it was. He felt the own soft touch he felt whenever his wings wrapped around him when he was lonely, or feeling homesick. Until he found Dean, because Dean had been the smile he'd come to love, the voice he'd come to know, and the warmth he'd come to enjoy. If this was goodbye, he wished to remember, and for Dean to do the same. So he pushed it back into Dean's palm, taking Dean's fingers and curling them around the feather.

"Remember me," Castiel whispered. "I don't think I've ever had great purpose, but I would be happy knowing somebody remembers me."

"Cas..." Dean whimpered, hand tightening around the soft feather as tears began to water in his eyes. "I'm not going to forget you, and you better not forget about me. I know angels probably live a long time, but you're going to remember me always, right?"

Castiel pulled him in to another embrace, wings circling around them once more. "Always. You, I will never forget."

They kissed, a gentle press of nothing but lips, a tear slipping down Dean's cheek and in between their mouths. They stayed that way a long time, the dark and cloudy day outside almost echoing the pain in their hearts. For Dean, this was life, always coming back to bite him in the ass. For Castiel, this was humanity taking hold of him and dragging him down into despair. Only with Dean did that feeling go away. But as long as Castiel was hunted by Dean's determined and bigoted father, he would never be safe, and neither would Dean.

They parted reluctantly, Castiel pushing away to the window before he could let himself be pulled back in. Dean stood still, crying silently, feather clasped in one hand. "If I ever need you..." Dean said quietly. "Or maybe if I just want to see you one more time..."

"You can call for me," Cas finished, trying to smile. "No matter what happens, I will come for you."

"Where are you going to go?"

"I don't know. Perhaps further south, farther from humans this time around." Castiel bowed his head as he climbed onto the windowsill, angling his wings to catch the breeze. "I will remember you." he said without turning to face Dean. "Perhaps one day, fate will bring us together again."

Dean shook his head. "Fate..."

The angel leapt off, free falling until the wind caught and he flapped higher into the morning air, never looking back for fear of the pain it would bring him. Dean finally moved, running forward to stare slack jawed out the window as his angel flew off, becoming nothing but a speck in the sky before disappearing.


	11. Chapter 11

A week past since that night. When Dean was allowed out of his room, he still moped. He had considered calling Castiel so many times, but he never did. Even now, John still searched the forest and fields for the angel who he thought had threatened his son, even travelling outside of their estate to search. It was all pointless, because Dean knew Cas had left, gone far away to be safe and start his life over in exile, alone.

He had told Sam about what happened, and his brother had hugged him and told him he was sorry, made excuses to try and make him cheer up, but it didn't work. Dean was without a friend, and without a lover, and it burned deep inside him as pain and rage and loneliness. John had lectured him every day that week about angels; the enemy of humans, creatures from the bowels of civilization. It was like demons were nothing in comparison.

Once Dean was fully healed and rested, his father forced him back into training again, intent on making him fight another angel/demon challenge in a month's time. Of course, Dean could care less for it. He was tired, so tired of all this, and not just because of Cas. He was just done with everything. So as Alistair fought with him or  Mr. Singer taught him literature and lore, he could barely muster himself to half listen.

Every night, Dean would sit on his bed, twirling the black feather in his fingers, reminiscing when the soft touch reminded him of Cas' wings. He kept it on the pillow where Castiel had slept sometimes, like it was some sort of substitute for the warmth and companionship he was missing. Of course it wasn't. Sometimes Dean tired to find something to be mad at the angel for, just so he could stop hurting, but there was nothing; Dean just wanted Cas to be here without fear or prejudice.

Dean went to bed like he did every other night, not even bothering to change his clothing due to  exhaustion from a combat training exercise. He closed his door and flopped onto his stomach on his bed, pillow cushioning his head. He reached down and pulled his covers up over his shoulders, rolling to lie on his back, and arm tossed over his eyes. He stretched his legs and back now that he was in a comfortable position.

He slept soundly for the first time that week, feather held loosely in one hand curled near his head. He dreamt of Sam and his father when they were younger, he dreamt of his mother, her beautiful blonde hair blowing in the breeze as they all stood on a shoreline Dean didn't recognize. Then his vision slid away, replaced by the snarling, gnashing teeth of the demon, leathery wings battering him, tail wrapping around his wrist and a hand closed his throat. His vision swam with black wings of feathers, fighting back the nightmare, blue eyes boring into his mind's eye, warm and welcoming. The feeling of being wrapped up in strong arms, wings wrapped around, loving kisses, making love...he missed it.

Screeching, yelling, clanging, it all woke him from his dreams. Dean rolled and sat up. He jumped to the sounds again, louder and more terrifying now that he was conscious. Something was wrong. He could hear yelling from guards, and he heard the sounds of swords clashing. They were under attack. Dean was up in an instant, shuffling around the grab his sword. He needed to figure out what was happening, he needed to find his dad, needed to find Sam.

Something flew past his window, blocking the light. Dean froze and turned to see empty sky again. He found his sword and quietly pulled it from its sheath, gripping the handle tight. He approached his window, eyes peering into the dark night outside, illuminated only by moonlight. It was nearing dawn, as far as Dean could tell. He was suddenly knocked onto his back as a steak of white came barrelling through his window. Dean gasped as he was held down by the sheer weight of the creature now straddling his waist. It was an angel, they were under attack by freakin' angels.

The angel, male and fair skinned had him pinned, hands clamped around his wrists and wings splayed for intimidation. He smirked as he watched Dean struggle to get him off. The angel took a stronger hold of the wrist of the hand holding the sword, squeezing and twisting. Dean grit his teeth and groaned when he was finally forced to drop his blade.

"Won't do me any harm anyways, boy." the angel sneered, striking him across the face with a swift punch. "We're going to wipe out your whole entire species."

Dean's eyes widened. So this wasn't just an attack on the manor. These angels were probably all over the Kingdom, on some sudden errand to kill ever human. Were angels really that blood thirsty? No, Castiel wasn't...Cas! If he wanted any reason to see his lover again, this would be a damn good one. He was about to call out when the angel gazed down at his other hand, still clasped around the pitch black feather.

His own white wings twitched in response. "I know that feather. My brother...has Castiel been consorting with humans?" Dean whimpered as the angel clamped a hand over his mouth and leaned down to sniff him. "Ah, more than consorting. Raphael's been looking for Castiel for a long time. I think I just found out how to find him."

Dean fought against his attacker, trying to call for help, for Cas, find that damn angel blade he had stolen, anything. It was no use, and he cried out as the angel moved off him, grabbing around his middle with both arms and lifting off the floor. Dean struggled uselessly against then angelic strength as the angel flew out the window and into the sky, and then Dean saw the battle.

Angels and guards clashed in the courtyard below, bloody and determined. Dean was at least happy to see the angel blades from their armoury were in use, and there were in fact dead angels among the carnage. As his captor drew lower, Dean found his father, fighting bravely and with great haste. Mr. Singer was nearby, and Dean was surprised to see he was doing well too, wielding the blade as if it was second nature. Alistair was a little ways off, brandishing two angel blades, one probably from the fallen angel lying at his feet.

Dean was suddenly dropped the last few feet to the grass of the courtyard. He hit hard, breath leaving him and he winced from the jolt of pain through his ribs. His captor landed beside him, hauling him to his feet and pressing his now drawn angel blade tight against Dean's neck, making the human freeze.

"Raphael!" he bellowed into the sky, and Dean managed to tilt his head enough to see the line of angels soaring overhead, most heading off to another target, but a few diving to join the battle. One veered off from the group, and dove towards them, landing hard on the ground. He was dark skinned and carried himself proudly, massive dark blue wings flexed behind him. Dean gulped, because he remembered Raphael from Cas' story. He was screwed.

"Zachariah, why have you not killed this human?" Raphael growled. "Why are you wasting my time with it?"

The other angel, Zachariah, grabbed Dean's hand and pried his fingers apart, revealing the black feather Dean still had in his palm. "This one has consorted with Castiel." Raphael went wide eyed, snatching the feather up, much to Dean's annoyance.

"Castiel," Raphael rolled the name off his tongue. "That traitor has long since vanished from our ranks. How is it he was found by a human before us?"

"Oh, I believe this human has done more than find him," Zachariah sneered.

Raphael cocked his head, not unlike Cas used to, and took hold of Dean's chin. Dean tensed as once again he was sniffed by an angel. When he leaned back, Dean saw the cocky smile playing on the angel's lips.

"Oh, Castiel has left his sent all over this one," he chuckled. "Tell me, human, how long have you been hiding him before he mated with you?"

Dean shot him an intense glare, lips thinning. "Bite me."

Raphael shook his head, peering down at the feather again. "I've been searching for Castiel for a long time. You see, no angel is allowed to leave the Heavenly Host and live. He hid much better than we thought, though, so how interesting to know a human found him first, and fell in love."

"Shut up!" Dean snapped.

Raphael punched him hard across the jaw, adding to the bruise Zachariah had left earlier. The angel blade was pressed back into his skin, and Dean flinched.

"Well, now that we have you," Raphael continued. "We can summon him and finish this once and for all. One less pest to deal with."

"No," Dean breathed, eyes widening.

Zachariah held him back as he tried to struggle, angel blade pressing cold against his skin. Dean was so lost. The angel were attacking the kingdom, their manor, and Raphael, leader of the angels Raphael, was about to summon Castiel to his death. Dean swallowed and his chest tightened. His thoughts turned to his father, across the way fighting valiantly...did he even know Dean was there? And where was Sam? He wanted to know his little brother was safe. Dean also didn't want to find out Sam had taken up a sword. He never wanted his brother to start fighting and killing, and if it was last thing he did, Dean was going to make sure of it.

He was distracted by Raphael's mumbles, and looked at the back of the blue-winged angel. Dean couldn't understand the language, so he guessed it was an angel thing. He twisted the feather around in his hands. Dean assumed that however it worked, the feather was some sort of connection to Castiel, and therefore a way to draw Cas to him. Raphael's voice rose and then stopped abruptly, his wings quivering. "I've got him."

Dean closed his eyes tightly in defeat. When he opened them, there was a small ball of light in the sky, pulsing brightly and moving fast; coming towards them. It shot down like a fallen star, and Dean had to shut his eyes as the light became too intense. He listened to the sound of a loud impact and fluttering wings. He opened his eyes to see a crater in the ground at Raphael's feet, an lying in the hole, curled up in his wings and face contorted with pain and rage, was Castiel. Before Dean could call out, Zachariah's other hand moved and clamped over his mouth, angel blade still held to his throat.

Castiel coughed and slowly rose to his feet, legs wobbling and wings filthy. "Raphael."

"Castiel," Raphael greeted smugly. "How nice to see you again. We have some business to take care of."

"I will not go quietly." Castiel growled low in his throat. "Why have you summoned me to the Winchester's manor? _How_ did you summon me?"

Raphael moved back to reveal what was behind him. "Oh, your human was quite an asset."

Castiel went wide eyed as his gaze landed on Dean, a hand over his mouth while Zachariah held a blade under his chin. The angel bristled with a new rage for the ones who were threatening his beloved.

"Let him go," Castiel said, keeping his voice calm. "He is not part of this."

"Oh, I think he is." Raphael smirked, moving to cup Dean's chin and tilt his head up. "You've mated with a human, and I find that significant."

"Don't touch him." Castiel snarled, and Dean saw a whole new side to Cas; animalistic.

Raphael let go and turned to fully face Castiel, blocking Zachariah and Dean form his view with his wings. "Castiel, I was going to kill you, here and now, but I've changed my mind. I'm going to make a deal. If you can save your beloved, reach him before he dies, and escape The Angel's Keep, I'll stop hunting you, and let this human, Dean, is it? I'll let him go too."

"Save him?" Castiel repeated. "You will not take him."

"Oh, I will, I am." Raphael turned and nodded to Zachariah. In an instant, Zachariah pressed two fingers to Dean's forehead, and the human went limp. Lifting the man carelessly into his arms, Zachariah took off into the sky, off towards the mountains and the home of the angels; The Angel's Keep. Castiel cried out and lifted off to go after them, but Raphael gripped his wing tight, pulling him back to the ground, yanking out a few feathers as he did so. Cas snarled as he lay on his back, his former leader standing over him.

"Take the deal, or I kill you and your beloved right now."

"Why are you doing this? Why draw out the time?" Castiel asked.

Raphael knelt down, pulling Castiel up by his lapel so they were inches apart. "Because it's fun. I want to watch you suffer for your arrogance."


	12. Chapter 12

Raphael dropped Castiel and opened his wings, flying off into the dark sky. At his leave, the other angels attacking the manor followed, giving up on their efforts at the particular spot. No doubt the rest of the kingdom was still under attack.

Castiel could see John Winchester getting up off the ground, a gash over his shoulder, but otherwise unharmed. He looked around at the destroyed sections of wall of the armoury, stables and kitchen. Impala, Dean's horse, if Castiel remembered right, was nickering and kicking wildly until a frightened stable boy came to tend to her. The one person he couldn't find was Dean's younger brother, Sam. Dean had expressed his desire for Sam not to fight, and Castiel hoped he hadn't.

"Hey, guards, stop that one!" John was yelling, and Castiel was reliving the arena, guards on all sides holding him back. They hurriedly tied his wings against his back and held his hands behind him. Castiel didn't struggle, merely watched the exhausted and spooked men around him. Castiel bowed his head as John approached him, another, slightly older man with a scruffy beard behind him trying to tend to his wound.

"You!" John came close, fists clenching into Castiel's robe and pulling him up. "You son of a bitch. You're the one Dean let escape. So what, you came back with an army to kill us? Where is my son?"

"The angels have him," Castiel said quietly. "I'm sorry, I tried to save him."

John went wide eyed and he dropped Castiel. "No, the angels...they have him?" Castiel nodded. "You say you tried to save him?" Another nod, to which John scoffed. "Why would angel try and rescue my son?"

"I already did once," Castiel said, looking into the man's eyes. "I saved him that day in the arena. I killed Azazel and cured the poison in his blood. If it was not for me, your eldest would be dead. Yet you captured me with the prospect of executing me under the assumption I meant harm."

John stared. "No, you're an angel, you can't possibly..."

"Dad! Listen to him!"

Sam came running out of the manor, unharmed and unarmed, to Castiel's relief. He ran over to stand beside his father, John's arms coming to hug him when he realized his youngest son was safe. "Sam, you're alright."

"I'm fine, dad," Sam said, and looked at Castiel. "Please, listen to Castiel. Dean told me about him and what happened. Please, for once, just listen and try to understand."

John frowned. "I don't understand. _Castiel_?"

"Angel's do have names." Castiel said simply, looking between Sam and his father.

"Is that why you came back?" John asked wearily. "To help us?"

Castiel shook his head sadly. "No, I was summoned by my...old leader. I found Dean. I was trying to protect him."

"Why?"

"Because I no longer fly with the angels." Castiel explained. "I betrayed them and escaped. That is why I was hiding out on your land. That is how I met Dean."

John looked puzzled, and he moved a little ways off the consider the information. He began speaking with the bearded man and another, scrawny looking one. Sam took the opportunity to talk to Castiel for the first time.

"Do the angel's really have Dean?" Sam asked, worry evident on his face.

Castiel nodded slowly. "I'm sorry. I promised to keep him safe, but I failed."

Sam bowed his head. "Can you save him?"

"I could," Castiel admitted. "In fact, Raphael is counting on it, and I would gladly go. But not if your father chooses to kill me instead."

Sam looked to his father, speaking quietly with Mr. Singer and Alistair. It had been a long battle, and Sam knew his father was tired. Maybe he wouldn't put up a fight, maybe he'd finally listen and pen his eyes to what was happening so they could save Dean.

Sam looked back to Castiel. "If he doesn't I'll get you out." He watched Cas' eyes lift to his in surprise. "Dean's been moping around for a week without you. He told me about you, by the way. Everything, including his feelings." Sam paused. "He loves you, a lot. As long as you don't give up, I doubt he will either. He's stubborn that way."

Castiel smiled a little, glad he had found an ally in Sam just as quickly as he had found one in Dean. Perhaps there were more humans willing to accept change.

When John finally returned, he asked Castiel to tell him his past and how he met Dean. Castiel did, watching John's face the whole time. His expression never changed, but as Castiel spoke, he could see the worry and surprise in his eyes. Of course, Castiel left out the part where he bedded Dean, because he knew Dean would eventually have to be the one to tell his father he lost his virginity to an angel. That of course was assuming Dean came back safely.

When Castiel finished his tale, John nodded. "So, you're saying my son was kidnapped because of you?"

Castiel stiffened. "Yes, but please, this is my fight, and I can bring him back and stop Raphael, please."

"You know where he is?" John squinted. "And you are willing to risk your life to get my son back?"

Castiel nodded. "By my life or grace." He remembered promising the same thing to Dean.

Sam looked between Cas and his father, trying to read expressions. Every second they were losing time to save Dean, and Sam was becoming very impatient. Finally, John spoke to the guards hold Castiel. "Release him."

The guards, though weary, obeyed the order, letting go of Castiel's arms and cutting the ropes binding his wings. He flexed them eagerly as the men backed away. "Thank you."

John leaned in very close to his face, voice a mere whisper. "Listen carefully, angel. I will let you go this once. You bring my son back alive and in one piece. If you don't, I'll have no use for you, and strike you down without a thought. You do not have my full trust, but you are...our only _hope_ right now."

Castiel bit back anything he wanted to say, nodding instead. "I will, but I will need my blade back, the one you stole in the arena."

John nodded, pulling his own angel blade out from his belt, flipping it over so he was holding the sharp edge. "I kept it on me. This is your blade."

Castiel took hold of the handle, enjoying the feeling of his trusted weapon in his hands again. "Thank you."

Sam stepped forward then, eye burning with determination. "I'm coming with you."

"Sam..." Castiel and John spoke together.

"No, he's my brother." Sam snapped. "He kept saying it was his job to keep me safe, well, my job is to keep him safe, no matter what he thinks."

"You can't fight." Castiel pointed out.

"I never needed to, and Dean wouldn't let me. He kept saying I should just stick to my books."

Castiel nodded, kneeling so he was eye-to-eye with the young Winchester. "So he told me. There is a reason. Sam, Dean never wanted you to take up a sword, because he didn't want you to ever have to fight or kill anyone or anything. He wanted you to be safe, to be young and innocent."

Sam swallowed, eyes softening. "He said that? Why didn't he tell me?"

"Because he's stubborn," Castiel said simply. "And because he's Dean."

Sam nodded, smiling ever so slightly. "Yeah, okay. But, still, he's my brother. I can't just sit here and wait. I want to help."

Castiel sighed. "Sam, if you were injured, Dean would never forgive me, or you, or himself. Please."

"I don't care, I--." Sam fell forward unconsciously as Castiel pressed his forefinger and middle finger to his forehead. The angel caught him in his arms and lifted him up. He gently passed him into John's waiting arms, his father's face twisted in confusion and accusation.

"What the hell did you do?"

"He's alright." Castiel stepped back. "He's just sleeping. I'm sorry, but I have to do this alone."

John looked to his son and back at the angel. "I suppose you do." He looked like he was struggling to say something. "Thank you, _Castiel_."

Castiel smiled at the final recognition John had given him, flaring his wings to take off. "I shall return with Dean, or die trying. You have my word."

And he flew off towards the mountains.


	13. Chapter 13

Dean woke up with his head pounding and his vision swimming. His memory felt blank, and he let out a groan through a sore throat. Even when his vision began to focus, he felt blind. The room was pitch black. He became vaguely aware he was sitting on a hard floor against a wall, and the room was probably empty, but everything else was a mystery. Then his got the taste of leather in his mouth, and he realized he was gagged. He tried to reach up and pull the thing off, but his wrists were stopped by two chains holding them to the wall. He was trapped.

Then he remembered Raphael, and the other angel, Zachariah. Castiel was there, he had come, but couldn't save him. He was freakin' kidnapped by angels. Dean groaned as he let his hands fall to the floor, about as far from the wall as they could reach. He was scared, no doubt, he could feel his heart racing, and the sweat on his brow. But he was more worried about what happened to Cas. He was angel-napped before anything had happened. He slumped against the wall, wondering if Castiel was even still alive of if he would come for him.

He was distracted by light coming into the room by a door, and Dean could see the empty expanse of room. It was old and mouldy, cobwebs in the corners and all. Not very angelic. Dean looked back to the door, squinting into the light. Zachariah was standing and talking to someone Dean couldn't see, voices low. After a moment he walked away, and the other angle came into the room, closing the door and sending them back into darkness before Dean could see who it was. He tensed, stomach turning when he realized he was in a dark room with an angel who could no doubt see him.

He flinched when a small lamp was lit in the corner he hadn't even realized was there. It flashed an eerie yellow-orange tint on the walls and stretched his shadow up the wall. Dean jumped and pressed his back to the wall when he saw Raphael kneeling in front of him, wings dragging on the floor behind him. He snapped his fingers and the gag around Dean's mouth was gone. He spat and stretched his jaw.

"Awake? Good." He cooed, moving closer until his face was a few inches from Dean's. "My, my, Castiel really has made you his own, hasn't he? You smell like angel, boy."

Dean scoffed, turning his head to the side. "Go to Hell."

Raphael smirked and moved back finally, standing up straight. "Feisty humans are always my favourite." He pulled out his angel blade and ran it under Dean's jaw, to which Dean stiffened.

"What the hell do you want?" Dean spat.

Raphael moved the blade away. "I want Castiel to suffer for his crimes, and then I'm going to kill him."

Dean's eyes widened, and Raphael chuckled. "An angel and his human, how interesting." He pressed the blade to Dean's cheek and cut a long, thin line into his skin. Dean hissed, teeth clenched until the blade fell away. He could feel the sting and blood dripping down his face. Raphael smirked and moved the knife down to his shoulder, prodding it curiously.

"Where is it going to hurt the most, hmm?" Raphael teased. With a snap of his fingers, the gag was back around Dean's mouth, and it muffled his scream as the blade was suddenly lodged into his shoulder, piercing clean through to the other side. Dean screamed through the gag, body  stiff and convulsing. He slumped as the blade was pulled out, red staining his shirt and dripping down his arm. He breathed heavily through his nose. Dean groaned, rolling his head to look up at the angel looming.

"Hmm," Raphael mused. "Could have been worse. Let's see..." The angel traced the blade down his shoulder, over his chest, down his stomach, his hip, his groin (much to Dean's discomfort), and stopped just over his thigh. He poked the muscle a few times, as if testing its resilience. Dean flinched as Raphael raised the blade, tensing prematurely. When the blade came down, buried to the hilt, Dean's scream of agony carried all around the room through the gag, and he dared not move. He called out Castiel's name through the leather, panic seizing him, but Raphael only smirked.

"Just keep screaming for him, human."

Dean's eyes watered and let a tear slip, his breathing uncontrollable. He tried to fight against the chains, but he was weak, and it agitated his shoulder. He went limp, barely moving when Raphael twisted the blade and pulled up. Blood gushed through, and Dean couldn't even be bothered to care. He was hurting, and tired, and scared. Raphael smirked and stood, wiping a bit of blood off his hands but not bothering with the red- tinted angel blade. He moved and opened the door, letting more light into the room.

"Try and stay alive now, _Dean_." Raphael chimed. "Let's see if Castiel can get to you in time."

He flapped his wings, extinguishing the light in the cell and slammed the door shut. Dean was plunged back into empty darkness and accompanying silence. He wasn't even aware, because his head was swimming. He was in pain, sure, and he felt like he was going to faint from blood loss, but he was too distracted by the knowledge that Cas was alive, and coming for him.

 

* * * * * *

He was resting for a moment on the mountain's steep edge when he heard it. Or, rather it hit him like bludgeon. Castiel was overwhelmed by Dean's voice, calling his name. But it was broken and muffled; he was suffering, and Castiel was enraged by this. He could feel the overwhelming pain his mate was facing. Extending his wings, he flew on with more purpose than ever, knowing Dean was being tortured at the hands of the angels. The wind whipped past, the temperature dropped slowly, but he neither noticed nor cared.

By midday he had reached the mountain's peaks, and the chain or rock spread for miles in either direction, and expanded ruggedly in front of him. He could see the towers of The Angel's Keep poking through clouds in the distance, precariously positioned on the mountains. It was built as a castle and safe haven for the angels forced out of the kingdom, but Castiel had long since called it home.

He flapped hard, fighting a sudden bitter wind as he approached. It was uncomfortably quiet, even for a place that had just laid siege to a whole kingdom. He kept himself hyperaware as he neared the stone walls of the fortress, dingy on the outside, but Castiel remembered the shining white halls within. They were bright, gleaming, pure, warm, rooms meant for creatures as graceful as angels...or course, Castiel didn't find comfort in them now.

Something struck him suddenly from behind, and Castiel tumbled, wings struggling for an updraft He found one just above the ground and swerved up and around, tackling his opponent. It was another angel, obviously, this one female and blonde. She swung down with her angel blade, catching the tip of Castiel's feathers. He didn't notice and blocked her blade with his own, gritting his teeth as he forced her back. They flew apart and collided again, the sharp clanging of metal on metal as they duelled mid-flight.

The female angel came at him again and brought her knee up, catching him in his stomach. He grunted but forced himself not to double over, watching his foe carefully. Another angel, male, came up from behind, and Castiel lifted out of the way just in time to avoid his blade. The two now circled him, Castiel working hard to keep both in sight. The female charger first, followed by the other.

Castiel was quick, flying off into the skies, his enemies in pursuit. He flew higher and higher until he ploughed though and into a thick dark cloud, disappearing from their sight. They circled curiously, neither wanting to risk following him in. They didn't have to, because Castiel came out a fair distance from them and charged. The female spun and tried to block his sword, but Castiel brought the hilt of his blade over her wrist, twisting the bone and turning her blade around. It plunged into her chest and she gasped, breath escaping her lungs. Castiel ripped out her blade and she fell to the mountain, light exploding from her body.

Now wielding two blades, Castiel attacked the male. The other one was faster, however, and beat him back with a wing to his ribcage. Castiel spun back, wings curving to stop himself. When he was righted, the other angel was charging, blade outstretched. Castiel sidestepped and ran both blades through the male angel's neck, nearly enough to decapitate him. When Castiel released, he fell to join his fallen sister in the snow capped mountain.

Panting, Castiel looked on at the brother and sister he'd just murdered, wishing he had never needed to do that again. But he had purpose for this, and he didn't allow his sympathy to last long. He sent his angel blades away and he landed to inspect any damage. He found the clipped wingtips, but was not bothered by them. It seemed to be the only damage other than the cracked ribs from the wing attack. Castiel groaned as he quickly healed it with a hand to his side.

"Nasty business, this."

Castiel spun, letting his feet leave the ground in case he needed to escape. "Zachariah."

The other angel smiled. "Glad you remember me. I was supposed to be the one to set you straight the first time you disobeyed, but I guess that didn't work out, huh?"

"Where is Dean?" Castiel snarled, not intent on playing games with his former superior.

Zachariah looked smug. "Raphael's taking care of him. Might want to hurry up, by the way. I think your human should be bleeding out right about now."

"No," Castiel breathed. "Let me through or I will kill you."

To that, Zachariah simply laughed. "I'd like to see you try." He willed his angel blade into existence, and Castiel did the same. They flew higher into the air, circling much like the other angels had before. Castiel knew he needed to end this fast because Dean was losing time, but he had to be smart. He couldn't risk becoming too headstrong for fear he would be killed, and then Dean would be as good as dead. So he waited, sizing up his opponent.

When Zachariah charged, he was surprised, and went flying into the snow when a wing struck his stomach. Castiel sank into the white, freezing cold snow, shaking out his now damp feathers. He leapt back into the air, his feathers a little heavier, and he worked harder to keep himself aloft. Zachariah plunged again, Castiel spinning around the avoid the blade, and they faced again. They charged one another repeatedly, always clashing angel blades before backing off to get another angle. It continued on, strike after strike.

Castiel flipped mid air over one of Zachariah's thrusts, but was suddenly grabbed and thrown around by his robe, tumbling back into the snow. Once again stuck on the ground, Zachariah came to stand before him, looming over Castiel's kneeling form.

"Well, this is fun, but I've got orders to kill you. I'm sure Raphael would have loved to do it himself, but..."

Castiel growled and leapt up, hand tugging violently on the feathers of Zachariah's white wings. The other angel startled and fell to the ground. Before he could move, Castiel stabbed his blade through the wing, grinding it down into the rock under the snow. Zachariah cried out, a high pitched screech of angel tongue, pulling his bloody, punctured wing against the blade. Castiel willed the other blade from his fallen sister into being, falling into his palm. He raised it up high, watching his superior's eyes widen.

"Castiel..."

Castiel brought the blade down through his heart.


	14. Chapter 14

Raphael sat upon a throne of pure, white marble, the armrests carved into beautiful depictions of angels...smiting humans and demons alike. Gold boss lined the headrest and legs. It was a fit seat for a ruler of such a species, though Gabriel knew his brother did not deserve to sit upon it. His brother was nothing but a vile leech who had turned a once peaceful race into killing machines. If Michael had still been among them, he would not have let this happen. Perhaps even Lucifer, though a bit off, would have thought twice before turning so cruel.

Gabriel couldn't voice any of this, of course, because he was as much a prisoner here as that human Zachariah had brought in during the night. Except he was meant as a display, caged in a formidable box hanging above the throne room, a fixture among the white pillars and statues of great angels of old who had once led them, Michael included. Gabriel had been there for generations, a message to all who did not wish to follow Raphael. Of course, being one of two archangels left in the world, he was neither banished nor killed.

He sat in the cage high above, watching his brother with a burning hatred that had not passed with time. His large, golden wings quivered whenever he saw his brother on the throne he was not fit to sit upon. But Gabriel rarely spoke, not out of fear, but out of spite. He never even admitted he once loved Raphael like all his brothers before the war changed him. He also denied how he once hated the idea of being left in charge of the angels, but now he would have done anything to remove Raphael from power.

Raphael stood from his seat suddenly, eying Gabriel with intent.

"Dear brother, I have some news for you." Raphael smiled. "I've found Castiel."

Gabriel's eyes widened. Castiel , his brother and close friend. He was banished long ago, but Gabriel was always glad to know the angels had never found him. He himself knew what it was like to be and exile. If Castiel was alive, he had hope.

"In fact," Raphael continued. "He's on his way here, now. To rescue his sweet mate. A human, Gabriel. He found a human, of all the vile creatures."

The news was shocking to hear, sure, but Gabriel too had found a curious interest in humans, and had once fought to protect them, though that was not known to the angels. He remembered defending a town against demon attacks before the war, and in return, they welcomed him into their lives. He had learned much from the creatures, and had enjoyed it more than he should have for an angel. Michael had been angry with Gabriel's disappearance from the angels, but never found out about his exploits when he returned.

Raphael cocked his head. "You seem intrigued."

Gabriel scoffed. "I have faith, and I am not you, Raphael. I am not blind and bigoted, and have no doubt of humans or rebels like Castiel. If he is returning looking for blood and this mate you've stolen, God help you."

"God has not been our saviour in a long time." Raphael spat bitterly. "And his mate is sure to die soon. They're so fragile. If Zachariah has not finished off that pesky angel, Castiel will die by my hand, as will his human."

Gabriel felt his smile slip as Raphael left the throne room, heading off towards the dark, disgusting dungeons. The caged angel slumped back, wings curling around him. He prayed that Castiel would be successful. The angel's needed to start a new day over. He sighed, leaning his forehead against the bars of his cage.

He lifted his head to the sound of footsteps coming towards the room, echoing off the walls. Gabriel was sure it was Raphael, so he didn't care much. Until he heard, "Gabriel?" The archangel's eyes shot up, gazing down from his cage to see none other than Castiel, bloody, tired, damp, black winged Castiel.

"Castiel!" Gabriel cheered, wings flaring in glee. "Brother, it's been a long time. I'm glad you're still alive and well."

Castiel tilted his head. "I don't understand. Why are you caged? When did this happen?"

"Hmm, maybe a few years after you left." Gabriel shrugged. "I grew tired of Raphael."

"So, you rebelled, in a manner." Castiel asked slowly.

"Surprise, surprise," Gabriel jeered. "I'm not the most tolerable of angels. Except about humans, I can stand them."

Castiel smiled, thankful he still had an ally among his brothers. Then he remembered himself. "Gabriel, please, where is Dean?"

Gabriel frowned, looking sympathetic. "Your mate? He's lock in the dungeons."

Castiel's heart sunk. "He's wounded, I could hear his screams."

Gabriel flinched, only able to imagine what that must have been like. "Castiel, I'm sorry. You should hurry, Raphael..."

"Castiel," Raphael's voice echoed. "You made it."

Gabriel and Castiel turned to see Raphael stood by the throne again. Held up beside him was Dean. Castiel felt a painful twist when he noticed his lover's state. He was barely conscious, blood staining his clothes from a puncture wound at his shoulder and his leg. He had another cut on his cheek, and his shirt was torn open by a long and very recent cut from his collarbone to his belly.

"Quite a screamer," Raphael said, shaking Dean a bit. "He called for you, Castiel. Did you hear him screaming?"

"I will destroy you," Castiel growled lowly. "Let him go."

"Gladly." Raphael dropped Dean carelessly to the floor, the human slumped against the throne. Castiel shifted in annoyance just as Dean gasped lightly, eyes fluttering open.

"Cas...?"

"Dean..." Castiel stepped forward but was stopped when Raphael raised his hand, sending him flying back and landing on his back on the hard marble floor. Castiel groaned, ears ringing as he stood on his shaky feet.

Raphael shook his head. "We had a deal. You want your mate back and to go free? You have to go through me."

"It's a sick deal," Castiel spat. "And you broke it by hurting him."

"You suffered, it's what I wanted." Raphael said simply.

Gabriel watched helplessly as the two angels clashed, angel blade against archangel blade.  Castiel caught the horrifying sight of fresh, human blood on Raphael's blade, and the archangel sneered. "As I said, he screamed, a lot." It only enraged Castiel further, and he spurred on.

Raphael had the clear advantage in terms of strength, but Castiel was quick and determined, fuelled by hatred and by his love of the human. The floor shone and reflected every move and every flash of wings, even the glint of angel blades. He watched Castiel stumble after taking a blow to his stomach, and Raphael took the chance to bring his knee up to his face, sending Castiel reeling to the ground. The rebel angel spat blood from his mouth and got to his knees slowly.

"You're pathetic," Raphael grabbed Castiel's chin, pulling him up to meet his eyes. "You escaped the angels, mated with a human, risked your life for a lower species, and look at you, about to die at the hands of an archangel."

Gabriel watched Raphael raise his blade, and Castiel took his chance. He shoved Raphael away from his with the force of his wings, sending the other angel flying across the hall before he found his footing. Instead of Castiel charging him however, he leapt into the air, flying up to circle Gabriel's cage.

"You want freedom, brother?" Castiel asked hurriedly.

Gabriel bowed his head nobly. "I would gladly help you in exchange for my freedom."

Castiel nodded, jammed his angel blade through the bars and dragged it across, cutting the metal as if it was nothing. Gabriel ripped the broken bars apart until he could squeeze through, and finally, finally, spread his massive wings to their full length. He landed alongside Castiel on the floor, Raphael facing them with his own blue wings spread.

"Gabriel," Raphael snarled. "You dare fight with this outcast?"

"Beat's fighting with you." Gabriel replied with a smirk, and drew his blade. "Come on, brother. I challenge you."

"This is not your fight." Raphael spat. "This is where Castiel falls."

"Not before me." Was Gabriel's reply, and he looked sidelong to Castiel, whispering. "Help your mate, I will fight...and thank you."

Castiel nodded and watched in amazement as Gabriel leapt into action, clashing blades with Raphael. As the archangel's moved the battle, Castiel glided over and knelt beside Dean, hand coming to tenderly brush along his brow. The extent of the damage was severe, he was so close, Castiel didn't know if he could save him. Dean's skin was beginning to pale even as the human came to some form of consciousness.

"Hey...Cas, thought I saw you here."

"Yes, I'm here, Dean." Castiel promised, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him to lean against his chest. "I promised I'd always save you."

"Making me feel pretty bad about all this rescuing, Cas." Dean tried to smile, but was too weak, instead burying his face in Castiel's warm chest. Castiel held him close, heart sinking and water threatening to fall from his eyes. He felt his grace swelling inside him, trying desperately to heal the damage, but he wasn't strong enough; Dean was too close to death. The sounds of the battle muted in the angel's ears and he hugged his lover tightly.

Dean tilted his head up, eyes half open. "Cas, I don't...I can't..."

"It's alright, Dean." Castiel said, and he felt cruel for lying. "You'll be fine. I'm not going anywhere."

Dean leaned up with what little strength he had left and kissed Castiel's mouth, nothing but a light brush of lips. Castiel held his close and let his eyes fall shut, a single tear finally escaping and rolling down to his jaw line. Dean fell back from the embrace, still alive, but barely.

Suddenly, Gabriel flew back and hit the wall a few feet from them, groaning as falling limp to the floor. He was breathing, but didn't stir. Castiel's eyes burned with rage, and he let go of Dean to summoned his blade once more, charging Raphael. The archangel dodged one swipe but caught another across his face, and he hissed. Castiel kept dealing strikes, and though most were deflected, he continued on.

"You're weak, Castiel." Raphael taunted as their blades collided in an 'x' shape. "As is Gabriel. You'll both die by my hand!"

He shoved back, wings flared fully, and Castiel was forced to the wall, slipping down to land beside Gabriel. He landed on his hands and knees, shaking and struggling to breath. Raphael came and lifted him by his lapel, spinning Castiel around and throwing him across the floor. Castiel's angel blade slipped out of his hand. As he looked around, he saw Dean, eyes closed, head leaned on the throne, body slumped. Castiel was sure he was dead by now, and he snapped, pain clawing at him from inside. This can't be how it ended. Dean had a family, a little brother to look out for, and Castiel...he just wanted to live alongside Dean, wanted to love him and feel loved. It was all a pipe dream now.

Raphael's foot collided with his stomach, sending Castiel over onto his back with a stifled grunt. Digging his heel into Castiel's throat, Raphael spun his angel blade around in his hands. For a moment, Castiel thought he was going to speak again, but the archangel didn't in favour of raising the angel blade above his head. So many thoughts ran through Castiel's head as the blade was brought down, and he waited for the pain, and his inevitable death.

But the pain never came. There was, however, the unmistakable sound of someone being stabbed, and he opened his eyes to see Raphael, stock still and the tip of an angel blade stuck out the front of his throat. His eyes flared with light, and the room was filled with it as Raphael died like all angels, his grace exploding and being extinguished from existence.

"Gabriel," Castiel groaned, shoving Raphael's limp foot off his neck. The angel blade was ripped from the archangel's neck and the lifeless body slumped to the floor. Dean stood, unsteady and barely awake behind him, the arm with the wounded shoulder tucked to his body. The angel blade fell from his grasp as he swayed.

"Dean!" Castel jumped to his feet, grabbing his lover as he collapsed. He sank to the floor with the human held protectively in his arms.

"Look at that, Cas." Dean muttered, head lolling to the side. "I finally saved you for a change."

"Yes, thank you, Dean." Castiel smiled weakly. "You need to stay awake. Please, don't die."

"That's such a human thing to say, Cas." Dean pointed out.

"Well, what am I supposed to say?" Castiel asked honestly, because he was so lost, so damaged, he just didn't know.

Dean smiled sincerely. "I guess you say whatever means something to you."

"I love you." Castiel said instantly.

Dean opened his eyes a little wider, but his smile didn't slip. "Yeah... that works."      

That was it. Dean's eyes fell shut and he let out a shaky breath before silence hit. Castiel was speechless, uncaring of the fact he was crying. Dean was dead, limp in his arms, and Castiel was powerless to save him. Why did emotions have to be such cruel things? Why was he cursed to feel for the first time only to have it stolen from him? Perhaps God, the father who had abandoned them long ago, was a brutal teacher, still playing games with his angelic creations. Castiel jumped at the hand on his shoulder, looking up to see Gabriel looming over him.

"I'm so sorry, brother." He said, honest sympathy in his voice.

Castiel nodded, looking back to Dean. "I don't know what to do. It hurts, and I can't..."

Gabriel nodded even as Castiel failed to finish his sentence, hugging his mate close, noses brushing. In all his existence, he had never seen something so strong and so heartfelt...and so heartbreaking. Gabriel could only imagine what his little brother was feeling, having not experienced it himself. So he knelt down beside him, one golden wing coming to hug his brother while he pressed his finger tips to either side of Dean's head.

"What are you doing?" Castiel mumbled beside him.

"You freed me, and stopped Raphael. I'm repaying the debt."

Gabriel close his eyes, concentrating as Castiel could only watch. Where his fingertips lay, veins of blue began to grow on Dean's face, stretching all the way to his jaw and down his neck. They snaked and formed to the contours of his facial features, Gabriel focusing intently as he began to mumble in the language of the angels. The growing lines moved down bellow Dean's collar, reappearing on the skin of his hands and on his chest, visible from the cut in his shirt. Castiel looked on in confusion as the strange veins turned from blue to black  and began to retract. The wounds on Dean's shoulder, leg, chest and cheek all disappeared simultaneously, healing over in seconds. When they disappeared, Gabriel gasped from the physical exertion and fell back.

Castiel looked between Gabriel and his still silent mate. "I don't understand."

Gabriel smiled. "Just wait..."


	15. Chapter 15

Dean groaned and rolled over on his bed, shoulder oddly sore. He grabbed a pillow and squished it over his head, trying to fall back into sleep once more, vaguely aware that he was shirtless. But he couldn't because he felt eyes on him. He flipped over, throwing the pillow blindly in the direction he felt the presence of someone standing.  A moment later, the pillow came back, smacking him in the head and rendering his chances of getting anymore sleep impossible. Then he remembered.

"Cas!" He sat up only to be bombarded by his little brother, hugging him like mad.

"Dean, you are a pain in my ass, you know that?" Sam said, not sounding the least bit mad. "I told you, you like making things hard for yourself."

Dean smiled. "Hello to you too, Sammy."

Sam finally let him go, standing at the side of his bed. It was then Dean looked behind him and saw his father watching with a smile on his lips. "Dad..."

John came and hugged him. "I'm glad you're safe, Dean. Alive and well."

 _Alive_... he died. He freakin' died! Dean pulled out of the embrace, hand smoothing over his leg, chest, shoulder, over all the healed wounds he thought had sent him to his death. He sighed in relief, slumping back. "I died, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did." Came a familiar from very close beside him. "Gabriel saved you."

Dean turned to see Castiel sitting on the edge of his bed, wings tucked nicely against his back. He looked between his angel and his father, and while John looked a bit weary of Cas, he seemed more comfortable with his presence than before. So Dean smiled, wrapping his arms around Cas and planting a much needed kiss on his lips.

"Jesus, get a room!" Sam groaned.

"This is my room," Dean said when he and Cas parted. "You can leave if it embarrasses you." Dean chuckled at Sam's annoyed expression but faltered when he saw his father looking at him with a hint of discomfort. "Dad..."

"So, you and Castiel?" John said calmly. "I guess this explains some things."

Dean frowned, exchanging a worried glance with Cas. "Dad, please, can we not..."

"I'm not going to fight with you, Dean." John shook his head. "It's a bit...odd, and I'm not entirely comfortable with this, but after what's happened, I've...learned a few things."

Dean shook his head. "I don't understand."

John nodded, patting his hand. "Castiel told me everything; from his rebellion right up to now. It seems I was...wrong about him. I wasn't inclined to believe him at first, but he did keep his promise. He brought you home safe."

"You're not mad that I...?" Dean cut himself off, cheeks turning red.

"What?" John asked seriously.

Sam giggled next to him, fully aware of what he was about to admit. "I'll, uh, just go. Oh, and Cas? If you ever knock me out like that again, I'm gonna pull those feathers out, got it?"

Castiel nodded, assuming it was a joke, but still curled his wings back protectively. Sam sighed and left the room, smiling at his older brother once more before shutting the door. It left John still staring intently at his son.

"Dean, is there something you need to tell me?"

"He's my mate, now." Castiel jumped in when Dean didn't answer.

John flustered. "What? What do you mean mate?"

Castiel brushed a hand through Dean's hair. "I mean that we 'made love', as you humans say, and created a bond."

"Dean!"John yelled, yet he looked more shocked than angry.

"Hey," Dean stopped him. "I didn't know it would make a _bond_ , I just thought it was great, first time sex." Castiel smacked him with a wing to the back of the head, and Dean shut up appropriately.

John got to his feet. "Dean, I'm proud you finally found someone that special, but an angel? A male angel at that?"

"Dad," Dean warned. "Please, don't go back to that. I'm happy, okay? I'm sorry if it doesn't fit in with your beliefs, but you should try being a little more tolerable."

John's jaw snapped shut, saying nothing. Instead, he just nodded stiffly and left the room, closing the door a little harder than he should have. Dean huffed and lay back down, fingers tangling with Castiel's.

"I'm sorry you and your father still don't see eye to eye." Castiel said, eyeing the floor.

Dean used his other hand to rub his arm comfortingly. "Hey, it's not your fault. I think dad just needs some time to get his head around this. I don't think he's planning to kill you anytime at least."

Castiel smiled down at his lover then, and moved to shift under the sheets and lie facing Dean. One wing curled over their heads while the other blanketed them, feathers brushing up Dean's bare back. Dean shifted closer, burying his head in Cas' neck and wrapping his arms around him.

"Did Gabriel really bring me back to life?"

"Yes," Castiel sighed. "I am eternally grateful. Archangels are the only angels among us powerful enough to cheat death."

Dean shivered despite the warmth. "What about you?"

Castiel rubbed his cheek into Dean's hair. "I thought I'd lost you. I tired with all my power to save you, but I was too weak. It...hurt. I didn't know what to do."

"It's alright, Cas." Dean hugged him, kissing his neck lightly. "I'm here." he sat nestled in the warmth of feathers and arms, their breathing the only sound in the room. "What happened to Gabriel?"

"He stayed at The Angel's Keep." Castiel explained. "He has taken up leading the angels, as it should have been. He's already called off all attacks on your kingdom."

Dean huffed. "That's great, but people are still going to be pissed."

Castiel nodded. "It will take time to regain a trust between our species, but it is a start. Gabriel is determined."

Dean hummed his response. "Did you really knock Sammy out?"

Castiel chuckled. "He was set on coming with me to rescue you. I explained you did not wish him to fight or to be at risk or harm, but he insisted. So I had to improvise."

Dean laughed into Cas' neck. "God, that's kid is stubborn. Thanks though, for keeping him safe too."

Castiel nodded and used a hand to tilt Dean's chin up, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips. Dean sighed, eyes fluttering shut. He missed this, for all that time Cas was gone or he was captured, this is what he'd wanted. He let his hand cup Castiel cheek, thumb rubbing along his skin.

When they parted, Castiel brushed their noses together and asked, "Am I safe to stay here with you?"

Dean leaned forward, mumbling against the angel's lips, "Absolutely. I'm not letting you go again." He rolled them over, planting another kiss on Cas' lips, deep and meaningful, saying the words he'd never had the chance to  say before.

"I love you."

 

 

_~FIN~_


End file.
